


The Only Constant

by ErinDarroch, JustineGraham



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode IV: A New Hope, Star Wars Episode V: Empire Strikes Back, Star Wars Episode VI: Return of the Jedi, Star Wars Original Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Star Wars Setting, Angst, F/M, Family, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, HSLO, Happy, Kissing, Love, POV Leia Organa, Plot, Post-RotJ, Post-Star Wars: Return of the Jedi, Rating: NC17, Romance, Romantic Angst, Romantic Fluff, Safe Sane and Consensual, Screw Jar-Jar Abrams, Sexy, Smut, han/leia - Freeform, hanxleia, kylo-free zone, no-ben-solo-here
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-25
Updated: 2016-07-01
Packaged: 2018-07-18 04:18:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 39,358
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7299280
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ErinDarroch/pseuds/ErinDarroch, https://archiveofourown.org/users/JustineGraham/pseuds/JustineGraham
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It’s been six months since the Battle of Endor and things are still in a state of flux. Han Solo/Leia Organa. Romance, love, angst and a double-dose of smut. Plus a little bit of fluff, for good measure. NB: The events of TFA will never happen in this universe. This is a Kylo-free zone. Post-RotJ Alternative Universe.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Reconstruction

**Author's Note:**

> Authors’ Notes:
> 
> This story takes place in a post-RotJ alternative universe inspired by Sue Zahn’s _Kismet_ series and her version of certain elements (e.g. Han’s family background, etc.), which we prefer to official canon (whatever that means these days).
> 
> Having said that, this story is just as much AU to the _Kismet_ series as it is to the OT. We’re not writing anything that could in any way replace or supersede stories that Sue herself may write in future, obviously. We’re just playing in the sandbox of someone who is playing in someone else’s sandbox. Surely there’s a term for this? Fanfic-fic, maybe? Anyway, Sue has told us that she’s cool with it.
> 
> Also, a note about **“official canon”** in general. We don’t give a rip about it. Han and Leia (in this story) do not have the same future as the miserable one depicted in _The Force Awakens_. In other words, there will never be a “Ben Solo” born to them in this universe. This is a KyloRen-free zone. So, if you’re okay with that, we hope you enjoy. If not, then this is not the thinly disguised smut you’re looking for; move along...move along....
> 
> Thanks to beta readers **suezahn** and **YellinYee.**

_Annoyed_ wasn’t quite strong enough an adjective to describe Leia Organa’s current frame of mind. Being kept waiting for hours had taken its toll on her temper. If her shuttle didn’t get underway soon, it would prolong the entire timeline of her diplomatic mission to Sacorria, and subsequently delay her return to the newly established capital of the New Republic on Chandrila. It also meant delaying her eventual reunion with Han Solo—whom she hadn’t seen in days—because he was currently somewhere in the Mid-Rim. As an official member of the Alliance, he was now as entangled as she was in the business of ending the war and preparing for reconstruction. Feeling restless and irritated by the long delay, Leia paced around the exterior of the small starship, her booted footfalls tapping out a staccato rhythm that reverberated through the half-empty hangar.

She couldn’t blame the overworked techs scurrying around her, and she’d managed so far to curtail her urge to snipe at them; they were doing as well as they could, with as much speed as they could muster, given their limited numbers. The fledgling military base here on the outskirts of Hanna City had sprung up with remarkable swiftness after the destruction of the second _Death Star_ six months ago—quickly enough to leave the assigned personnel scrambling to maintain some sort of order. Redeployment of the remaining fleet to assist with insurgencies against Imperial remnants galaxy-wide meant staff of all designations were in short supply—and maintenance crew to a profound extent. Consequently, the efficiency of services ranged from erratic to absent, and every wretched variation in between.

And the scarcity of personnel did not end with just the support staff. Repercussions from heavy losses incurred during the Battle of Endor, coupled with the necessary redistribution of the fleet, were being felt across all levels of day-to-day operations. Their numbers greatly reduced, qualified pilots were a particularly hot commodity. That unfortunate reality was the primary reason Han was continually being sent out on missions that had nothing to do with his status as a military general, and everything to do with his reputation as one of the most skilled pilots in the Alliance. 

The shortage was severe enough to warrant a sweeping change to flight protocols; High Command had decreed that pilots should maximize their available duty time by curtailing all activities that didn’t specifically involve sitting behind the controls of a ship. All safety and security functions, including pre-flight checks, were to be performed by a dedicated staff of inspectors who spent their days scurrying from one hangar to another in an endless cycle of _check-signoff-check-signoff_ that was, in all likelihood, as blandly repetitive as it sounded. And although the new system may have seemed good in theory, it did not appear to be working out very well in practice, as evidenced by the fact that Leia was still awaiting both an inspection crew and a pilot, two hours after her scheduled departure.

As she completed yet another circuit around the resting ship, she thought of Han again and felt a familiar pang of longing. Between his near-continuous piloting missions and Leia’s responsibilities in putting together the Provisional Senate, they’d seen far too little of each other in the two months since they’d departed the temporary base on Endor. Rare stolen moments here and there were sustaining Leia through grueling weeks of endless meetings and strategic planning sessions, each one blending into the next. It was vitally important work, and having the opportunity to be on the leading edge of this new government—forming its policies, laws and protocols—was both her duty and a tremendous honor. Having devoted the last five years of her life to the restoration of the Republic, she was fully committed to seeing it through.

Moreover—and to her lasting astonishment—Han had emerged from his carbonite prison with a commitment to the Alliance that seemed to match her own. He’d finally accepted the long-proffered commission, led the strike team that knocked out the second _Death Star_ ’s shield, and then joined the assault team that wiped out an Imperial outpost on the far side of Endor. Subsequent missions had showcased the skills and qualities he possessed that made him an invaluable asset to the Alliance, and there could be no doubt now as to his commitment to the cause; Leia just wished they had a little more time to be committed _together_.

She was pacing for the umpteenth time around the exterior of the waiting shuttle—and giving serious consideration to commandeering the shuttle and simply flying _herself_ to Sacorria—when Ensign Raikal, a grey-skinned Xexto technician, appeared and signaled to her from the open hatch. As he walked down the ramp towards her on two of his six arms, Leia could see that his pale face and beige coveralls were smeared with as much engine lubricant as was likely to be in the engine itself. His third and fourth hands continued to tap away at the datapad he carried with him as he approached, while the fifth shielded his face from the glare of the hangar lights as his eyes adjusted from the relative darkness of the shuttle interior. The sixth hand continued to wave wildly about his head—as if he didn’t already have her attention with his impressive multitasking abilities.

“Pardon me, Your Highness,” Raikal intoned in a deep, melodious voice as he approached. “We are almost finished here, and I’ve just received word that the inspection crew is on its way to conduct the final audit. They should arrive soon.”

_Finally!_

Leia stifled the urge to make that exclamation aloud, opting instead to thank the technician with a tight smile before following him as he made his way back aboard the shuttle. She’d always struggled to tolerate inefficiency with good grace, and especially now, when every wasted moment that passed reduced her chances of returning in time to see Han before he was dispatched on yet another mission. As she reached the top of the boarding ramp, she heard the distinctive sound of repulsors behind her and glanced around to see a ground-crew transport humming across the hangar floor, before drifting to a stop near the nose of the shuttle. She gave a wave of acknowledgement to the handful of figures perched inside the vehicle and stepped through the shuttle hatch into the small vestibule. She’d intended to make her way down the corridor to her left into the passenger lounge beyond, but Raikal was waiting just inside the door, barring her way. He inclined his head politely, and motioned with two of his arms towards the open hatch of the large cargo bay directly opposite the shuttle entrance.

“Perhaps you could wait just inside here, Your Highness? With the more functional areas of the ship vacant, we’ll make short work of this inspection and you can be on your way.”

_Right. Just as soon as the pilot shows up! I’m never going to get to Sacorria at this rate…._

Swallowing her irritation, Leia nodded in acknowledgement and moved to comply with Raikal’s request. She was happy to stay out of their way if it meant that the inspection could be completed quickly. As she entered the hold, she saw that it was mostly empty. A few stacks of battered shipping crates lined both sides of the hold near the entrance, but the rear of the compartment contained only a handful of plasteel barrels in one corner, a substantial storage chest in the other, and an assortment of rubbish littering the floor. Gone were the days of travelling to diplomatic conferences in luxuriously appointed starships, Leia reflected wryly. The shortages plaguing the burgeoning New Republic extended to every aspect of their operation, including personnel transports—and, apparently, crews to clean them. Not only had the old JS-77B shuttle never been intended for use in diplomatic missions, it had certainly seen better days.

The tramp of booted feet on the boarding ramp heralded the arrival of the long-awaited inspection team and Leia turned with a sigh to face the open hatch, through which she had a clear view of the shuttle entrance. Folding her arms and leaning one shoulder against a stack of crates, she watched as each inspector appeared in turn at the top of the ramp. She nodded a polite greeting to each—two human females, a Sullustan male and a four-eyed Aqualish of indeterminate gender. They nodded and smiled in acknowledgement of Leia’s presence, and one or two murmured apologies for the lateness of their arrival as they filed through the vestibule and into the ship beyond.

_Four inspectors for one tiny shuttle? No wonder they’re taking so long to get around to everyone._

As that thought flitted through her mind, she heard the sound of yet another set of booted feet striding up the boarding ramp, and rolled her eyes in exasperated disbelief. She made a mental note to speak to speak to General Larkin about the gross inefficiencies of a system that sent five inspectors to the same ship when they were so short-staffed. To hide her expression from the new arrival, she turned away from the open hatch and pretended to be absorbed in reading the labels plastered all over the nearest shipping crate.

The sound of knuckles rapping against the bulkhead drew her attention back to the entrance. As she turned her head, her eyes widened and her mouth fell open in surprise. Leaning one shoulder against the shuttle’s open hatch, silhouetted in the misty backlight from the hangar, was Han Solo—easily the most gorgeous thing she’d seen in a very long time. Her incredulous gaze slid over him from head to toe and back again, holding him fast in place with her eyes for fear he’d disappear as quickly as he’d materialized. His well-worn holster rig, slanted low across his hips, accentuated the lean lines of his frame. Thumbs hooked in his belt loops, he was doing his best to exude an air of casual detachment, but the pose was contradicted by his expression; his eyes were anything _but_ impassive, and Leia had seen that look before. Bright and mischievous, his eyes held hers with that hungry look he always had when he was calculating some licentious possibility. He looked _delicious_ , and he was up to something.

“Han?” she gasped with disbelief, unfolding her arms and walking slowly towards the open doorway. As she stepped through the portal into the vestibule, she cast a quick glance along the short corridor to where Raikal and the Sullustan inspector stood immersed in conversation. She looked back at Han, who was still lounging nonchalantly against the frame of the shuttle hatch.

“Nah,” he drawled, the corner of his mouth turning up into an impish half-grin. “I’m…uh...hang on,” he turned the ID badge dangling around his neck to read the name. “…Arvis Bith?”

Leia snorted in amusement.“Well, _Arvis_. What are you doing here? I thought you’d be in the Meridian Sector for a few more days, at least.”

“Would’ve been, but our last contact didn’t show. The Nyemarians apparently have longer memories and bigger trust issues than we thought.” As he spoke, his gaze flickered sideways and Leia became aware that one of the human inspectors was heading back in their direction. Han straightened up and stepped aside to allow the woman to exit the shuttle.

After watching for a moment as the inspector disappeared down the ramp, Leia looked back at Han and took a moment to drink him in. At some point during their most recent separation, he’d cut his hair quite short and acquired a dark grey military jacket—although Leia noted that it lacked the customary display of rank above the breast pocket. She smiled at the sight. He’d transformed in so many ways since his rescue from Jabba’s palace, but she supposed some things would never change. 

“How did you even know we were still here? We were scheduled for departure hours ago.”

“I didn’t. Not until after we landed. I detoured through Hangar Three to see if Antilles was in, thought I’d see if he wanted to join me and Chewie for a drink since we got some more of that Lomin ale he likes.” He paused, grinning at Leia’s expression. “Don’t worry. I saved you some.”

She rolled her eyes. Lomin ale was _disgusting_.

“Anyway,” he continued, “while I was looking around for Wedge, I passed the inspection team, and they were all unscrewed, scurrying around like Jakrabs trying to turn around all these ships.”

Leia gestured for him to lower his voice, conscious of the fact the Aqualish inspector was now moving back down the corridor in their direction, following in the footsteps of the woman who’d passed through a moment earlier. After the inspector was down the ramp and safely out of earshot, she looked back at Han and shook her head. “I suppose that managing so many huge changes was always going to be difficult. But I’m afraid this new system isn’t working quite as well as General Larkin had hoped it would.”

“Yeah, they’re still a little disorganized. I overheard one of ‘em saying they needed to hurry up and get to Hangar Four now because—and I quote— _‘She’s still waiting and she looks like she’s gonna take a powershiv to the next guy that tells her “sorry for the delay”.’_ So I figured, who else could they be talking about?” Han gave her a look of smug satisfaction. “And you say _I_ have a way with people.”

Leia fixed him with an embarrassed glare and folded her arms. “Is there a point to this story?”

“The point is, that’s how I knew you were still planetside,” he smirked. “Anyway, I just trailed behind ‘em, grabbed a badge and hopped on the transport with the rest of the team. There’s so many new crew flying on and off of this planet, I’m not surprised nobody recognized me.”

Leia huffed her irritation at the sound of more footfalls on the ramp; the two inspectors who had previously exited the ship were now making their way back, along with two additional human technicians, arms loaded with equipment and chatting amongst themselves. Raising an amused eyebrow at Leia’s frowning expression, Han finally stepped over the threshold of the ramp and into the shuttle vestibule to allow the others to pass more freely. In doing so, he drew a step closer to Leia, almost near enough to touch, and although she welcomed his proximity, she was conscious of their public position. The small craft felt crowded now. The entire group of four inspectors, plus several technicians, were milling about the interior. All were embroiled in intense discussions centered upon, from what Leia could hear, the shortcomings of this particular model of shuttle, and their personal sentiments about the Alliance keeping them in circulation. There seemed to be very little _inspecting_ being done at all, as far as she could see.

Turning her focus back to Han, Leia glanced at his badge and shook her head in mock admonition of his confession. “Stealing identification? That’s no way for a respected general of the Alliance to behave.”

“I didn’t _steal_ it, I _borrowed_ it.”

"And you do realize that right about now poor Arvis is standing in front of his duty officer trying to explain why his security badge is missing?"

"Occupational hazard,” Han shrugged. “Anyway, it’ll teach him to be more careful."

Leia was aware that she was only making small-talk with Han for the sake of the technicians and inspection crew who had congregated at the end of the corridor, when all she really wanted to do was to launch herself into his arms and kiss him for all she was worth. The soft glow of the interior lights made Han’s changeable eyes look as green as the trees of Endor, forming a striking contrast with the light bronze of his suntanned skin and the flash of his white teeth. In truth, she wanted to do more than kiss him, and Han’s grin told her that he could read that desire loud and clear.

With a glance down the corridor, Leia lowered her voice and said, “So, are you going to say hello properly, or do I have to submit a service request?”

Han’s grin widened even more and his eyes took on a mischievous glint. “I’m afraid not, Your Highness. I’m here on official business. No time for foolin’ around.”

Even as he spoke, he advanced the remaining few steps to close the distance between them and Leia felt her pulse race in anticipation of the kiss that would belie his words. Instead of taking her into his arms, however, he took her by the elbow and gestured for her to re-enter the cargo hold from which she’d just emerged. Leia raised her eyebrows inquisitively; Han nodded in affirmation.

With another cursory glance at the oblivious personnel occupying the shuttle, Leia slipped into the cargo hold with Han at her heels, his hand at the small of her back to propel her forward. Once safely ensconced, Han palmed the controls of the hatch to activate the release and swiveled to face her. Even before the door had closed completely, she was in his arms.

"Hello, Princess," Han drawled, pulling her firmly into his embrace and looking down at her with a lazy smile.

His warm body felt magnificent against hers, and the feeling of his strong arms tightening around her made Leia’s already racing pulse trip into overdrive. Reaching up, she tangled her fingers in his thick hair and gently tugged him down, craving a kiss. “Hello, yourself,” she whispered. She stretched up to capture his mouth, but at the last instant Han turned his face slightly, dodging the motion, and her kiss landed instead on his cheek. Leia drew back in surprise.

"We’re wasting valuable time here, you know,” Han murmured, turning his head back so that his lips hovered barely a hair's breadth above hers, just out of reach. “I’m supposed to be performing a complete pre-flight inspection."

Taken aback, Leia’s brain took a moment to register what he’d said. “What...what are you talking about?”

“I’m part of the inspection team, remember?” he prompted, loosening his embrace to slide his fingers down the curve of her back. His large hands came to rest on her hips and he reared back to meet her eyes. “Our orders are to evaluate the entire ship, inside and out. Seeing as how you’re standing in it, technically that makes you subject to inspection.” As he spoke, his hands resumed their movements, leaving her hips to slide up to her waist, then higher still, his thumbs just grazing the undersides of her breasts. His eyes roamed her face, smiling faintly as he seemed to measure her reaction to his jest.

Leia stared up at him—confused, amused, and feeling highly distracted by the sensations he was causing with his wandering caresses. After a long moment, she managed to splutter a mock-indignant reply. “Oh, I’m pretty sure I’m exempt. I’ve got...diplomatic immunity.”

In response, Han dipped his head down and nuzzled her ear, sending a shiver throughout her body. “You’re not trying to prevent me from carrying out official orders, are you? Interfering with access to the equipment?”

"Ahh...." Leia's words were swiftly leaving her, evaporating in the heat of her own deep flush as Han began kissing his way down the side of her neck. Han in a playful mood was extraordinarily difficult to resist. She was already breathless when she said, a teasing lilt in her whisper, “You can stand down, Crewman. I assure you, _my_ equipment is in proper working order."

“Sorry, Your Worship. Safety first.” Leia could feel him smiling against her neck, as he trailed a string of light kisses all the way back up to her ear. His hands continued to roam her body and his rumbling voice made her tremble. “I’ve got a job to do, and you know as well as I do that High Command doesn’t look kindly on anybody who doesn’t take his job seriously. So that means it’s my sworn duty to look you over."

Leia struggled to contain a laugh. Although he’d adopted a few of the outward trappings of his formal position within the Alliance—the uniform jacket, the short haircut, and the occasional sketchy salute—Han remained at heart an inveterate scoundrel with little regard for rules and regulations. And he could still drive her crazy.

He edged forward, nudging Leia to begin moving backwards down the narrow aisle between the towering shipping crates. Trusting in his guidance, she allowed him to back her up to the far corner, coming to rest against the high storage chest positioned there. He loomed over her, adopting a stern expression. “Now, are you going to co-operate, or do I have to call in my four-eyed friend out there for reinforcement?” He gestured with a jerk of his thumb back toward the hatch door.

She did laugh then. The combination of Han’s stalwart adherence to his ridiculous charade, coupled with a sudden vision of the Aqualish inspector’s shocked expression were he to be put in such a situation, struck her as absurdly comical. Her laughter gave way to a gasp as Han scooped her into his heated embrace again, and dived down to devour her ear. She writhed against him as he drew an earlobe between his lips, and gave it a soft nip. As his warm hands continued to roam her body, she arched against him reflexively, then allowed her hands to do a little roaming of their own.

" _Ah-ah-ah_ ," he admonished, batting her hands away. "No inspecting the inspector.” Lowering his head, he resumed his caresses along the curve of her jaw, deliberately brushing past her mouth—although she was sure he could tell how much she was aching for his kiss. She clutched at his shoulders and tilted her head as he dragged his lips down the other side of her neck. He paused then and pulled back to catch her eye. “Oh, and by the way, Your Highness,” he breathed just above her parted lips, “despite the badge saying otherwise, I ain’t no _crewman_. I’m just doing old Arvis a favour here, helping him out. He ought to be thanking me."

Ignoring his comment, Leia moved again to capture his mouth with hers, but he evaded her once more, his lips continuing their blazing trail over her chin and throat, peppering soft kisses punctuated by his murmured words.

“This is a very _demanding_ position, you know,” Han growled, his rich baritone voice striking a familiar subterranean chord that reverberated straight to her core. As he spoke, he tightened his arms around her and pulled her more firmly against him. The sound of their heavy breathing filled Leia’s ears as she moved her body deliberately against his and felt his powerful response. She slid her hands up to tangle in his thick hair and closed her eyes, concentrating on the sensations of his hands gliding down to grip her hips, and the hot press of his lips against her throat.

One part of her mind—the part not clouded by the haze of intense pleasure she felt at his touch—was conscious of their relatively exposed situation. Although their relationship was no secret among Alliance personnel these days, there was still the potential for deep embarrassment should one of the real inspectors venture to open the door of the cargo hold and see them writhing against each other like this. Another more pragmatic part of her brain was marking the passage of each minute, calculating how much time they might have left to indulge in this little “inspection” before they were interrupted.

In the meantime, Han was still enumerating his qualifications for the job. “It requires experience. Attention to detail. Can’t leave this sort of thing in the hands of some second-rate... _amateur_.” Reaching the hollow at the base of her throat, he slipped his fingers inside the loose neckline of her blouse, grazed across her collarbone, and then gently pulled the fabric aside to bare her shoulder. His mouth descended upon her newly exposed flesh, and Leia heard herself emit a little moan.

Han gave a gratified chuckle, clearly encouraged by her response to continue playing his adopted role. “As you pointed out, I’m a ‘respected general of the Alliance’. That means when it comes to checking out military hardware, I got all the experience you need, _and_ I outrank you. So I’d appreciate it if you’d address me as _sir_.” He straightened up to meet her gaze, winked, and flashed her that wickedly irreverent half-smile.

Leia rolled her eyes at that, and dealt him a light swat to one shoulder. “Don’t push your luck, Flyboy,” she warned dryly, although she was quite certain that as long as he continued along his current path, she would eventually address him in any manner he wished.

“We’ll see,” he replied with a knowing grin.

Releasing her then, he took a step backward and Leia let her arms drop to her sides, feeling oddly bereft. Was he not even going to kiss her properly before she left? She wondered if this was his way of paying her back for all the times over the past few months when she’d playfully teased him in semi-public places, toying with her newfound powers of seduction—and driving him slightly crazy in the process. Watching as he squared his feet, folded his arms, and cocked his head in contemplation of her figure, she thought he was probably doing exactly that.

Han dragged his gaze up to meet hers and gave her a lopsided smirk. “Now...where to begin?”

“To _begin_?” Leia exclaimed, glancing down at her somewhat wrinkled attire. She smoothed the fabric of her tunic with her hands and cast a quick glance towards the hatch, still calculating how much time they had left. “I was under the impression your inspection was well underway.”

“Nah, that was just the preliminary ignition check,” he informed her solemnly. “Every good inspection must include a detailed visual analysis and a meticulous hands-on examination, from nose to tail."

Leia couldn’t suppress another laugh. She leaned back, resting her elbows on the edge of the tall storage chest behind her. “You sound like a training holo. _And_ you've been using more than just your hands," she pointed out.

"I'm a very _thorough_ inspector. _The best._ "

“Well, then, get back over here and finish the job,” she ordered, trying to sound stern.

Ignoring her command, Han eyed her from top to bottom and shook his head. “Hmmm, I was afraid of that,” he muttered. “This model, she’s a temperamental one. Reliable and sound for the most part, but has a tendency to run hot. Sometimes blows a gasket when you least expect it. Kinda _high maintenance_.”

Straightening up, Leia planted a fist on her hip and shot him an ominous look. “Shall I revoke your license now, or wait until you say something else completely offensive?”

“Alright, Princess, don’t get excited. I’ll suspend my analysis for now,” he mollified, his hazel eyes twinkling. “Besides, I can tell just by _looking_ at you that you’re the finest in the fleet.”

Leia resisted the urge to roll her eyes at him again. Instead, abandoning all pretexts, she reached out, hooked two fingers into his waistband and gave him a firm tug. “Come here.”

Still smiling, he closed the narrow gap between them, gathered her close and wrapped her in his lush embrace once again. As Leia’s body relaxed and melded to his, she felt the immediate and strangely elemental sense of _belonging_ she always felt in his arms. She ran her hands up his chest and across his broad shoulders before winding her arms around his neck, stretching up on tiptoe to plant a soft kiss on his jaw. She sighed, reveling in the familiar scent of his skin and the perfect way she fit into his arms. As Han lowered his head to hers, Leia tilted her chin up and allowed her eyes to drift closed. She had waited an awfully long time for this kiss and her whole body was thrumming with anticipation. Han’s mouth had barely brushed hers, though, when she sensed him pause and draw back, smiling against her parted lips.

“Maybe I should at least have a look at your—”

“Give it up, Han,” she chided, and dragged his mouth back to hers.

Their kiss was everything Leia had been craving for days. The movement of his warm lips against hers was pure indulgence, awakening all of Leia’s senses and electrifying every nerve. Through his touch she could feel the strength of their connection, an affirmation of the love they shared and a powerful reminder of the promised future for which they were both working so hard. His hands drifted across the contours of her back and downward, thumbs grazing along the curve of her waist, up to the swell of her breasts and back again, fueling sparks and shivers of longing. The enticing brush of his lips gave way to the insistent slide of his tongue seeking hers, and those heady sensations combined with the unrelentingly sensual motions of his hands to send her spiraling into a hazy oblivion of desire. The rest of the galaxy fell away and there was only _this_.

She struggled to mask her disappointment when Han finally broke the kiss, and then pressed his forehead to hers—but she knew he was wise to draw the interlude to an end. Desire was one thing, but timing was another, and he understood as well as she did that they couldn’t take this much further, not here. Leia struggled even more to reconcile herself to the fact that they were facing yet another long separation. Although she fully understood the necessity for each of them to go their separate ways, it was never easy to say goodbye.

Clearing his throat, Han loosened his embrace to put a little space between their bodies and leaned back to catch Leia’s eye. His voice was rough with desire when he spoke. “So, you’re headed to Sacorria, huh? How long will you be away this time?” The shift in topic mirrored the shift in their physical positions and signaled Han’s acknowledgement that it was time to get back to business.

“That depends.” Leia sighed and brought her hands together between them to begin ticking the days off on her fingers. “It’ll take two days to get there, followed by three days of receptions, ceremonies, dinners and meetings, and then two days to get back. And that's _if_ I manage to get away from here soon.” She shook her head ruefully and rested her hands on his broad chest. “And that’s not looking very likely, given the fact my pilot hasn’t even turned up yet. If I arrive too late, some of our meetings will have to wait until after their public festival period, which means I'll be away ten days instead of seven. What about you? Where are you off to next?"

Han grimaced and drummed his fingertips on the curve of her hips as he looked down into her eyes. "You know how things are right now, Sweetheart. I'm stuck with back-to-back piloting gigs, and I've got a tricky one coming up—playing moon jockey for some temperamental senator who apparently doesn't like to be kept _waiting_ and who can’t even say for sure how long her mission’s gonna last….”

For the second time that day, Leia’s eyes widened and her mouth dropped open in surprise. She stared up at him for a long moment, speechless, and then watched as a gleeful grin began to spread across his handsome features. When she finally found her breath, she couldn’t quite formulate a proper sentence. She pushed at his chest, but Han held fast to her hips, keeping her in place.

“Wait, _what?_ Do you mean...? What are you saying? _Han_!”

He was laughing heartily by then, and they almost missed the sound of the polite rap on the cargo bay door. They separated just before the hatch slid open and the stocky figure of the Sullustan inspector appeared. Blinking his bulbous black eyes, he cast an apologetic glance at Leia before stepping into the bay and addressing Han with a curt bow of his tapered head.

"Our inspection is complete, General Solo, and Ensign Barro will be bringing your personal luggage aboard. You are cleared for lift-off whenever you're ready.”

“Thanks,” Han replied, “but that won’t be necessary. Her Highness won’t be using this shuttle today."

Taken aback, Leia looked over at Han, regarding him quizzically.

“That is...if you don’t mind flying to Sacorria with a scoundrel, Sweetheart.” Angling in her direction, he caught one of her hands in his and lifted it to his lips, hazel eyes alight with prospect. “The _Falcon_ is on pre-launch and ready to go, back in Hangar Two. What do you say? Wanna relive old times?”

Leia simply gaped at him for a moment.

“Besides,” Han said more soberly, giving her hand a squeeze, “all Sacorrian promises aside, I’m not going to put too much stock in the local security detail there, Princess. The Imps ain’t done with us yet, and you could use a bodyguard going into a big conference like this, albeit an unofficial one. Who better than me for _that_ job?”

Leia was speechless. He’d planned this, all of it, down to the last detail, just to be with her and keep her safe. She didn’t need words to respond; heedless of their audience, she flashed him a brilliant smile, stretched up on tiptoe and kissed him on the cheek. He grinned and winked back.

Slipping his arm around Leia’s waist, Han drew her to his side. “Inspector,” he addressed the Sullustan, “Commander Covney and his team will be taking over this ship and readying her for departure to Ruan. I’d appreciate it if you could relay that she’s all clear and ready to go. Oh, and Inspector?” he interjected, pulling off the ID badge and extending it towards the Sullustan. “Give this back to Bith, would you? Tell him thanks, and I hope he feels better soon."

Leia eyed Han with a look of disbelief, then watched as the inspector walked towards them to take the proffered badge. “So Arvis is...”

“In the medbay. Nasty case of food poisoning,” he grinned down at her and gave her a light squeeze. “Told you I _borrowed_ it. You didn’t think I’d actually land some poor guy on reprimand just to see the look on your face, did you?”

“I never know _what_ you’re going to do, Nerfherder,” Leia confessed, then allowed herself to beam up at him with unabashed affection. “You keep surprising me.” She turned to look at the inspector, who seemed to be waiting to catch her eye.

The Sullustan clutched the security badge with both hands and gave a nervous chuckle as he offered a deep bow in Leia’s direction. “So sorry for the delay, Your Highness. We hope you were not unduly inconvenienced.”

Leia cast a glance at Han, who was looking enormously pleased with himself. She thought about the days ahead that had loomed so drearily in her mind only moments before, and then favoured the Sullustan with her brightest smile.

“Not at all, Inspector. As a matter of fact, I think it was well worth the wait.”

-:¦:--:¦:--:¦:-

To be continued...


	2. Recreation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's rated 'M' for a reason!

With the _Falcon_ safely in hyperspace, Leia headed to the bunk room to change, freshen up and unpack her formal clothes. After pulling off her boots and dropping them on the floor beside the open hatch, she decided to attend to the latter task first. It wouldn’t be good form to attend the upcoming festival events in wrinkled attire, and there would be no time to have her clothes valeted upon arrival—at least, not before the first formal reception. Moving across the cabin to the rightmost bunk, she bent over the travel case that lay open there and began the task of extracting her carefully folded items and putting them away in a nearby storage locker—one of several that Han had designated as _hers_ at some point during their long trip from Hoth to Bespin just over a year ago. As she sorted through her belongings, she listened to the distant sounds of Han as he made his circuit around the _Falcon_ , performing post-jump system checks and whistling as he worked. Having succeeded in surprising her completely, and with the prospect of an evening together free of interruptions, he was in an exceptionally cheerful mood. Leia smiled to herself as she unpacked, marveling at how quickly her own mood had lifted within the past hour.

Her first experience of being Han’s “official” co-pilot had gone well, she thought, although it would be a long time before she had all of Chewbacca’s routines memorized. As a skilled pilot in his own right, Chewie’s services were as sought-after as Han’s in the post-Endor chaos that marked the transition of the Rebel Alliance to the New Republic, and he’d been as busy with back-to-back missions as any other pilot. As far as Leia knew, he was currently somewhere in the Mid-Rim and, for the first time in over ten years, he and Han were flying separately more often than together.

While Leia was a competent pilot herself, and no stranger to sitting behind the controls of all manner of ships—she’d even flown the _Falcon_ a few times when necessity had required it—being at the helm of the war-weary old freighter during lift-off was a significantly different experience, and not just because of the readouts, gauges and procedures. This was _Han’s_ ship, his first love, and the only thing in the galaxy he ever called “baby”. The fact that he’d yielded sole control and allowed—no, _encouraged_ —Leia to take the helm when they’d lifted off from Chandrila was an unspoken, powerful testament to the depth of his feelings for her. To her knowledge, no one but Chewie had ever occupied the co-pilot’s seat beside Han, and that simple gesture gave Leia a warm glow inside. Although he hadn’t articulated those feelings, there was no need to; Leia knew what it meant.

Han was a remarkably patient instructor; he’d taken her through the co-pilot’s sequence for lift-off, checking power levels, monitoring the transition from repulsors and engaging the sub-lights. And although it was technically the pilot’s duty, Leia had been the one to take them into hyperspace, once they’d slipped beyond Chandrila’s gravity well. As soon as the coordinates had been entered into the nav computer and locked, Han had swiveled his seat in her direction, caught her gaze and smiled, then jerked his chin towards the throttle in a ‘go ahead’ gesture, inviting her to take over and initiate the jump. She’d slid willingly into his lap to perform the maneuver. It was a tight squeeze, but his arms encircled her waist and drew her fast and firm against his hips. The sensation of his fingers tucking back the stray hair that had escaped her braids and the warmth of his breath against the back of her neck was sublime—and thoroughly distracting. She’d almost forgotten exactly what she was supposed to be doing when Han began counting down, punctuating each number with a soft kiss on her neck: “Three…two...one... _hit it._ ”

As the points of stars became streaks of light, she’d wriggled around on his lap to face him and they’d shared a lingering kiss. The entire experience had felt intensely intimate to Leia, and she’d hungered for more. Though restricted by the cramped quarters of the cockpit, she had set about working the fasteners on his shirt with one hand, craving the feeling of his bare skin beneath her fingertips.

With a rueful smile, Han had caught her by the wrist and thwarted her attempts. “Sweetheart,” he’d dissuaded gently, “as anxious as I am to initiate my new First Mate on the finer points of deep space travel, we gotta wait. I have to run a few post-jump system checks. I can’t put them off.” He grinned at her with wicked promise. “Safety first, remember? Besides, we need more room to do what I have in mind. A _lot_ more room.”

Han had promised to work through the checks as quickly as he could, suggesting in the interim she return to the bunk room to sort out her things. In hindsight, it was a good thing that she had, as the delicate fabrics of her three new formal gowns had already begun to crease by the time she removed them from her case. There was only one storage unit in the cabin that was tall enough to hang items of such length. As she opened the locker to secure the garments on the rail there, her eye immediately fell to the only other article occupying the space.

With a reverent breath, Leia withdrew a deep charcoal grey officer’s dress uniform, pressed to precision. Holding the hanger at arm’s length in one hand, she twirled the garment around to view both sides before running her other hand over the front, admiring the quality and cut of the fabric. It was stunning; so simple in design yet impressive in its classic styling. He’d had it custom fitted and tailored; that was evident to Leia’s practiced eye. She fingered the rank insignia over the breast pocket. She’d seen the bars indicative of a general’s standing before, many times, but never on anything Han wore. He often donned a less dressy military jacket, more for utility and convenience she suspected, but he typically shied away from anything resembling designation. For a brief moment, she played with a vision of what he would look like wearing the dark grey uniform. The image made her smile from ear to ear.

She was shaken out of her daydream as Han stepped into the cabin. 

“Gotta hand it to Lando,” he said, crossing the small room to stand beside her before he bent to pull off his boots. “The _Falcon_ hasn’t run this well in years. I didn’t even have any post-jump adjustments to make.” Straightening up, he stopped short when he realized that Leia was holding his uniform and eyeing him with interest.

“This is some outfit, General. Nothing like your usual fashionable attire,” she teased. “When did you get it?”

Han gave her a sour smile but otherwise ignored her gibe about his wardrobe. “They gave it to me pretty much as soon as I accepted the commission. Comes with the package, apparently, whether you want it or not. But they only come in one size— _big and ugly_ —so I had it tailored in Hanna City a couple of weeks ago.” He shrugged. “I figured it wouldn’t hurt to at least have the damn thing properly fitted, in case I ever had a reason to wear it.” Leaning in, he took the hanger from her, replaced the uniform in the compartment and closed the door. “But, at the moment, I don’t want to talk about my clothes,” he said, his voice dropping to the low octave that sent shivers down the length of her spine. “I want to discuss _your_ clothes.”

“ _My_ clothes?” Leia cast a glance down at herself, taking in the wrinkled state of her loose tunic and tapered trousers. “What about them?”

“The fact that you’re still wearing them.”

Leia laughed and looked up just in time to meet his heated kiss. As his mouth descended upon hers, he slid one hand up to the back of her head, his long fingers working swiftly and with practiced precision to unpin her braids, while he slipped his other hand under the loose fabric of her top to encircle her waist with one strong arm. Leia gave herself up to the kiss without hesitation, heedless of anything else for the moment. Although she tried not to dwell overmuch on their long separations—they were a fact of life now that couldn’t be helped—she’d felt the passing of every minute of the last nine days, and had sustained herself during the lonely nights with detailed recollections of the last time he’d touched her like this. But he was here now, and she didn’t need to rely on her memories. Lifting her hands to his head she deepened the kiss, pressing herself against him as he drew his fingers gently through the heavy locks of her loosened hair, lightly grazing her scalp with his fingertips and sending shivers of desire radiating throughout her body. Distantly, she heard the faint pinging of hairpins hitting the metal deck plates, but all of her attention was focused on the pleasure of Han’s touch. The power of his desire for her was a heady drug, intoxicating and delicious, and she responded in kind, squirming against him as he dragged his lips from her mouth, along the line of her jaw and down the curve of her neck.

Abruptly, her world tilted at a dizzying angle as Han half-lifted and spun her around to press her body against the locker door, capturing her mouth again with a rough urgency that was instantly incendiary. Heat blossomed in her belly and blazed outward, arcing through her core and making her throb with desire, as it obliterated every remaining shred of conscious thought. Han ran both hands down the dual curves of her hips and around to her bottom, and then dipped down to wrap his hands around the backs of her thighs, lifting her easily and hitching her up to his waist. She wrapped her legs around his hips and wound her arms around his neck, her tongue sliding deeply into his mouth, hungry for his taste and his touch. His strong upper body pinned her solidly against the durasteel, his hands gripping at her backside as he devoured her mouth. Pressing forward, he drew her hips against the hard evidence of his desire for her, eliciting an involuntary intake of her breath, and a gruff sound from his own throat. Still holding her fast against him and with his lips trailing down her throat, Han managed to pull away from the lockers and swivel around, then blindly advanced the three steps to the broad center bunk and knelt with Leia in his arms. Settling her there atop the blanket, he remained on his knees between her parted thighs and looked down at her, his hazel eyes dark with desire.

“Are you still planning on inspecting me, General?” Leia teased, lifted her hips to facilitate his removal of her trousers, then sitting up for a moment to allow him to strip off her top. Both items hit the floor beside the bunk, leaving her clad only in a thin bra and panties—standard Alliance-issue articles that had long ago turned from pure white to a depressing shade of dishwater grey. Han didn’t seem to notice or care about the state of her underwear, however, intent only on removing all of it as quickly as possible. When she was finally bare before him and lying on her back once more, he planted his hands on the mattress at either side of her head, and loomed over her to meet her gaze.

“Every centimeter,” he answered with conviction, then lowered himself on bent elbows to kiss her warmly and at length. Though he was still fully clothed, she could feel the heat of his body through the fabric as he pressed her into the mattress, grinding against her as he kissed her deeply. She ran her hands over him and writhed beneath him as they kissed, enjoying the friction of the rough fabric against the skin of her breasts and belly. The weight of him and the intimate stroke of his tongue against hers sent a flush through her body that all but dissolved her into liquid and heat. Leia was breathless by the time Han sat back on his heels between her thighs and reached back over his head to strip off his own shirt. Leia reached to caress his smooth skin, admiring his broad shoulders and chest, and the ripple of well-defined muscle underneath as he moved to toss his shirt in the pile beside the bunk. She dragged the fingers of both hands in a line from his chest down the length of his lean torso to the waistband of his trousers.

“You know, I never did see this supposed license of yours,” she told him, her voice husky with desire. She stretched her arms above her head and let them rest there, eyeing him with a mock-dubious expression. “I think I have every right to run an inspection of my own. Just to make sure your credentials are valid, of course.”

Han’s eyes twinkled. “Oh, I’m gonna show you my credentials, alright,” he quipped. His gaze never left hers as he moved to stand up beside the bunk to divest himself of the rest of his clothes. As his fingers loosened the fastenings of his trousers, he stared at her with such a smoldering look of lustful intent that Leia felt a flood of warmth suffuse her core and heat rise to her cheeks. There was no centimeter of her body that Han hadn’t already thoroughly explored during the relatively brief time since they’d become lovers, but the evident strength of his desire still had the power to make her tremble and blush. She watched as he finished stripping off, frankly admiring the masculine lines of his body and the tightening of his muscles as he moved, and she smiled unabashedly at the sight of his obvious arousal when he straightened up. He grinned down at her, clearly enjoying being the object of her undivided attention. Locking eyes with her, he raised a questioning eyebrow and waited.

“Hmmm,” Leia mused in response, cocking her head to one side against the mattress and trying to adopt a thoughtful expression. “I think I need a closer look."

Han gave a soft snort of amusement and crawled back onto the end of the bunk, once again settling between her bent knees. This time, though, he sat back on his heels and simply gazed down at her for a moment. Behind the glaze of lust in his eyes was an expression of such tenderness and love, Leia felt her heart skip a beat. She returned his gaze with a faint smile, and then shivered with anticipation as his warm hands came to rest atop her feet where they were planted flat on the mattress to either side of his hips. His strong fingers encircled her ankles and then slowly, firmly, he ran his hands up the backs of her calves to the bend of her knees. Leaning forward slightly, his fingers pressed into her flesh as he slid his hands around and down the length of her inner thighs. As he reached the crease of her groin, the pressure of his fingers made her writhe and sent her breathing into overdrive. Brushing both thumbs lightly over the curls at the apex of her thighs, Han continued his upward travels, running his hands over her belly and up to her breasts, smiling with satisfaction as she arched in response to the brush of his palms over her rigid nipples.

Better able to reach him now that he was leaning over her, Leia ran her hands up his arms to his broad shoulders, feeling his muscles bunch and flex under her fingertips as he continued to stroke her flushed body. The heat of him between her legs was maddening and she found herself squirming to get closer, craving the sense of completion she found when their bodies were joined. Han ignored her wordless invitation for the moment, choosing instead to plant his elbows once more to either side of her, looming over her and lowering his lips to hers. Leia pulled him down, wrapping her arms and legs around him as he covered her body with his and their mouths locked together in a searing kiss. His tongue stroked against hers with an urgency that belied the slow, deliberate rub of his body against hers, and Leia groaned softly into his mouth. His erection was rock-hard and velvety against the skin of her belly and all she could think was _now, now, now._

“Han,” she gasped as he broke the kiss, loading her voice with as much command as she could muster.

He flashed her a wicked grin as he leaned down to nip and nuzzle the skin of her shoulder. His deep voice reverberated in her ear, making her shiver as he teased, “That’s right; you don’t like _waiting,_ do you?”

“No,” she growled, tugging ineffectively at his shoulders as he began kissing his way back down the path his hands had so recently travelled, lingering to lavish attention on her breasts with his lips and tongue. He shifted down the bunk for better access and then lowered his lips to her body again. The feeling of his hot mouth inching its slow way down her belly made her hips rise in reflex and she let out a soft moan of desire. She heard Han’s low chuckle as he continued trailing kisses over her heated skin.

“You’re making some unusual sounds up there, Princess,” Han murmured, nipping at the skin of her inner thigh, then soothing the spot with the sweep of his tongue and the press of his lips. His voice rumbled from between her legs. “Good thing I’m here to give you a good check-up. Make sure everything’s functioning properly.”

Leia wanted to thump him, both for making her wait and for extending his inspection jokes just a _little_ too far, but all she could do was clench her hands in his hair as he nuzzled the soft skin between her thighs, kissing and mumbling incoherent words against her flesh as she squirmed against him. Finally, just as she’d begun to entertain the idea of actually voicing a plea or calling him _sir_ —or doing whatever else he wanted so he would give her what she craved—he straightened up and then sat back on his heels once more, fixing her with a look that said he was done with bad jokes and fooling around.

Hooking his hands under the bend of her knees, he dragged her gently towards him and shifted so that their hips were aligned. Leia draped her legs over his thighs, nodding her head against the mattress and lifting her hips in encouragement, conscious of the fact that she was silently pleading with him over and over, but unable to help herself. Meeting her gaze with a smoldering look of his own, Han took the base of his straining erection in one hand and guided himself to the slick entrance of her body. Leia’s movements rose to meet his as he entered her with a powerful thrust of his hips, forcing a gasp from them both. Leia reached for him, fingertips grazing the smooth skin over the hard muscles of his abdomen as he began a series of shallow thrusts at the perfect angle, his deliberate movements stroking that sensitive spot deep within her core that made her eyes roll back in her head. She arched her neck against the pillow and lifted her hips to meet his as she clutched at him, her mouth dropping open, a low moan punctuating the apex of each forceful movement. _This._ This was the closeness and sense of completion she craved like an addict craved spice. His presence inside her made her feel whole, cherished and deeply satisfied. For an age, she lost herself in the sensual gratification of his movements and the grip of his hands on her writhing body.

Han’s voice, hoarse and strained, floated to her ears. “Leia,” he rasped. “Look at me.”

She opened her eyes and found his gaze locked on her, his hazel eyes dark with a mix of pleasure and concentration, and she felt his rhythm change; shallow movements giving way to long, measured strokes in and out as his breathing became more labored. She ran her hands over every part of him she could reach, admiring the ripple of muscle beneath his skin as he moved. The sight of him driving his hips against hers, his powerful body giving her so much pleasure as he watched her with half-lidded eyes, brought her careening toward the brink.

_So good. So good._

Along with the delicious physical sensations she experienced at his touch, Leia felt overwhelmed with the intensity of the emotional connection between them and she wondered fleetingly—and not for the first time—if it was always like this, for everyone. She had no basis for comparison, but the way he looked at her and touched her when they were together like this always made her feel like the center of his universe; treasured, powerful and loved.

Holding his gaze, she clutched at him with both hands as her body tensed, her breathing quickened and she tightened around him. Already adept at reading her signals, he slipped one hand down between them and added the light circling of his work-roughened fingers to the intense sensations suffusing her swollen flesh. The combination was exquisite and it quickly sent her over the edge, shuddering and moaning through the waves of pleasure that overtook her as he continued his relentless rhythm, pursuing his own release. It swept over him a moment later, and his fingers dug into the flesh of her hips as he pulled her hard against him, his breath catching and his rhythm faltering. Through the lingering waves of her own climax, Leia drank in the erotic image of Han dropping his head back with his eyes closed, his skin covered in a fine sheen of perspiration and his entire body tensing as he groaned his release. As his breathing shuddered and slowed, he dropped his weight forward to rest on his forearms and touched trembling lips to the soft curve of her shoulder. Leia’s hands drifted up his back and across his shoulders to stroke the damp fringe of hair at the back of his neck, before guiding his face back to hers for a gentle, lingering kiss.

-:¦:--:¦:--:¦:-

“So,” Han ventured at length, stretching out on his back with his arms folded behind his head. He heaved a sigh of deep contentment. “This was a good surprise, then?”

“Pretty good,” Leia teased as she returned from the fresher and climbed back into the bunk beside him. He’d shoved the blanket and top sheet down to the foot of the bed out of the way, and was now lying supine and unselfconsciously bare, cooling off. Leia turned onto her side and shifted up onto one elbow to look at him. Reaching back, she gathered her hair and drew it over one shoulder, then leaned over to place a soft kiss on the corner of his mouth. “Actually, the best surprise ever,” she confessed in a whisper.

Han grinned at her. “I wasn’t sure I _could_ surprise you, since you can pretty much know where I am all the time now.”

Leia’s tender smile turned slightly sour and she gave him a soft thump in the ribs. “I do _not_ know where you are ‘all the time’,” she corrected, feeling mildly miffed at his gibe, and uncomfortable at the mention of her newfound ability to manipulate the Force.

In the six months since the destruction of the second _Death Star_ and Luke’s revelations to her about their parentage, she’d become increasingly uneasy with the fact that she was, like her brother, Force-sensitive. Although she would never be a Jedi—she had no inclination to pursue such a goal, even if she could find the time—she could in hindsight see the workings of the Force throughout her entire life, and that realization had been both gratifying and deeply disturbing. It was something she still didn’t really understand, despite Luke’s efforts to teach her what he’d learned from his mentors. Furthermore, it was the sort of power she’d never craved and which seemed to corrupt many of those who wielded it; people like Sheev Palpatine and Anakin Skywalker.

_Darth Vader. My father._

Leia’s stomach lurched and her thoughts skittered away from that hateful subject. The more she thought about the Force and how it had affected her life so far, the less she wanted anything to do with it. The main difficulty with that was she was going to have to tell Luke about her decision, and soon.

“Hey,” Han’s voice broke into her reverie. He lifted a hand to her face, caressing her cheek with one calloused thumb. “Sorry. Just teasing.”

Leia favoured him with a wan smile. “I know. It’s just that I still don’t know what I’m going to do about… all of that.” She waved one hand vaguely to indicate the whole messy business of her heritage and the choices she would soon need to make about her future. “And, anyway, I can usually only sense you when I make a deliberate effort to. And I don’t do it _that_ often.” She couldn’t suppress the defensive tone that crept into her voice as she spoke.

Han hitched up on one elbow, then dipped his head down to catch her eye. When she finally lifted her gaze to his, he gave her his most charming smile. “I _like_ it when you think about me, Sweetheart. I don’t mind if you wanna check on me all the time.”

Leia smiled back, touched by his attempt to lighten the mood. “Only at night, when you’re far away,” she admitted in a small voice. “Before I sleep.”

“Thinking about me when you’re in bed, huh?” His handsome face took on a look of smug satisfaction. “That makes sense. What _else_ do you do when you’re lying in bed, missing me?”

Leia rolled her eyes and gave him a playful shove, not bothering to answer his impertinent question. But she couldn’t hide the smile that tugged at the corner of her mouth. Although he’d been responsible for raising the sensitive issue in the first place, he was also quick to recognize her discomfort and to use his bawdy humor to change the subject. That gesture, more than anything, reminded Leia of how much had changed between them in the past year. Instead of seeming compelled to rile and provoke her at every opportunity, Han was now far more likely to soothe and comfort her, although he still sometimes managed to do both.

Seeing her relax, he leaned in to give her a quick kiss before flopping back onto the bed. “C’mere,” he invited, motioning for her to take up her accustomed place under his arm. She complied readily enough, stretching out alongside him and wrapping her bare limbs around his naked figure. He pulled her close against him with one arm and they rested in contented silence for a few moments, adrift in their own private thoughts.

At length, Han spoke again. “I’m getting the sense that your mission to Sacorria is more than just an opportunity to wine and dine with the high societies of the Core Worlds, right? This is important, strategically?”

The field of galactic politics was far more familiar and comfortable territory for Leia, and she was grateful to Han for steering the conversation in that direction. She nodded against his shoulder.

“It’s absolutely critical for us, but it’s not unique. This conference in Dorthus Tal is probably only the first of several like this that I’ll be called upon to attend in the next few months. The victory at Endor was huge, of course, but it’s not over yet.” She tilted her head up to peer at him. “How much do you know about my mission, anyway? Who have you been talking to?”

Han craned his head down to meet her gaze. “Rieekan. Who do you think authorized the pilot swap? That jerk Erno Razik was originally assigned, but since I rolled up a few days earlier than expected there was no way I was going to let that happen. I wouldn’t ask that guy to fly a flag, let alone be responsible for flying you anywhere. Rieekan gave me the rundown on your objectives. Sounds like a cushy assignment, if you ask me.”

Leia snorted in derision. “That’s what you think.”

“What? Dinner, dancing, hobnobbing with the rich and powerful? It’s _my_ idea of hell, but you’re good at that sort of thing.”

“True,” Leia said conceded. “But there’s more to it than that.”

Han gave her a light squeeze. “I know, Sweetheart. We’ve cut off the head, but the rest of the beast is still out there, thrashing around. And we don’t have the resources to end it for good.”

Leia sighed and nestled closer to him, running her hand down his bare abdomen, taking comfort in his proximity as she thought about the challenges that lay ahead. Han _did_ understand; he knew as well as she did that there were still hundreds of Imperial strongholds scattered throughout the galaxy, still ruling the helpless masses through fear and oppression. Slavery, forced labor—and worse—were still the norm in some far-flung places, and even though many worlds were now rallying to the Rebel cause in the aftermath of their victory at Endor, there were still plenty of worlds where the global powers were in conflict with each other over where their allegiances should lie or, indeed, whether they should take sides at all.

“I’m afraid that’s true,” she murmured worriedly. “We need money, ships, _people._ And the Core Worlds have all of that in abundance, if they can just be convinced that the Empire is not going to rise again, that the New Republic is here to stay and deserves their support.”

“So, your job is to rally the troops?” Han stifled a yawn as he spoke, and Leia sat up to draw the covers up and over them both, then twisted around to palm the light controls embedded in the bulkhead, before settling back down beside him.

“I guess you could say that, yes.” She burrowed into his side as he wrapped his arms around her once more. “I’ve been invited as a guest of honor to present the New Republic’s position and to make the plea, in diplomatic terms, for further political assistance from the various governments, as well as material assistance from manufacturers and suppliers. There’s a three-day conference first, followed by a public holiday that coincides with the local _Siribati_ Festival—a celebration of the arrival of spring in that part of Sacorria. The conference is a chance for the planets to come together and celebrate our victories, but the festival that follows makes it so much more. This is our opportunity to motivate the _people,_ not just the politicians; to inspire them to take up the cause and fight to end Imperial oppression once and for all.”

“Bet you have one hell of a speech prepared.” Han’s drowsy voice drifted through the darkness, lulling Leia into a relaxed state that more closely resembled his own.

“Not yet,” she shrugged against him. “But, with something like this, I don’t usually need to prepare much. I speak from the heart, and it just pours out of me.”

She could feel Han’s smile as he pressed a kiss to her forehead. “I can imagine,” he said.

Leia tilted her head up against his shoulder, gazing at him as her eyes adjusted to the dim blue glow of the control panel above their heads. “The conference part of it is likely to be painfully dull for you, I’m afraid. Have you decided yet what you’ll be doing while I’m busy with that? I suppose you’ve already scoped out a high-stakes tournament or the closest smashball arena?”

Han cracked open one eye and peered down at her. “Yeah, what I’m considering is high-stakes, alright. Escorting a feisty princess to a bunch of formal receptions, dinner parties and gala balls. Sounds pretty risky to me."

Leia stiffened in surprise, then propped herself up on one elbow and stared at him. “Wait, are you saying…you want to go _with_ me?”

“Sweetheart, I just wanna spend some _time_ with you. And if that means putting on that uniform and parading around like some Rodian peacock, I’ll do it.” He gave her a sleepy smile. “And, anyway, I figure it’s time I got my money’s worth from that tailoring job.”

Leia was silent for a long moment, gazing down at his handsome face in wonder and disbelief. Finally, she drew a deep breath and spoke. “So, let me just clarify. You’re going to attend the main reception, the dinner _and_ the dance on the first night?” She strained to keep the note of incredulity out of her voice. She’d known Han Solo for a few years now, and she thought she knew him well enough to justify feeling highly dubious about that particular proposal.

Despite her attempts to keep a neutral expression in place, he seemed to read her thoughts, and gave her a look of mock indignation. “Why not? I was planning on attending all three days of it, if you want me to. I’m a ‘hero of the Rebellion’, or so they keep telling me. Best I start acting like one, at least once in a while.”

Leia was rendered almost speechless by his declaration. “But...can you even dance?” she blurted without thinking.

Han grinned and reached up to run his fingers along her jaw. “You bet I can, Sweetheart. Rumors to the contrary, I was _not_ abandoned as an infant and raised by Wookiees in the jungles of Kashyyyk, remember? I’m a little rusty, maybe. But I’m sure it’ll come back to me once the music starts, and you’re stepping all over my toes.”

“Hmph,” Leia said, subsiding at last to return her head to his shoulder. “We’ll see who steps on whose toes, Flyboy.”

A companionable silence stretched between them then as Leia contemplated Han’s offer. Her mind whirled with visions of him in that handsome uniform, twirling her around a dance floor, chatting amiably with distinguished guests from the upper echelons of a dozen worlds. It beggared belief. Even more ridiculous was the idea that he would sit through the endless hours of discussion and debate that would assuredly fill the daytime hours of the three-day conference. While she deeply appreciated the gesture, she wasn’t entirely convinced that he had the stomach for it, no matter how much he’d changed in the past six months. Still, she was profoundly moved by the effort he was making, both in support of her and for the next phase of development of the New Republic.

Leia sighed contentedly, listening to the deep rhythmic rise and fall of Han’s breathing; he was already asleep. She nestled closer and drifted off, lulled by dreams of dancing.

-:¦:--:¦:--:¦:-

**To be continued...**

Thanks to beta readers **suezahn** and **YellinYee.**


	3. Reception

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wherein Han Solo dons a dress uniform and makes small-talk.

Soft orchestral music drifted through the vestibule as Han and Leia neared the five sets of double doors that led into the Grand Hall. Han fidgeted with the high collar and straightened the rank insignia on his dress uniform jacket for the hundredth time since they’d cleared the wide security perimeter around the Dorthus Tal Parliamentary Palace, the finest location the city could offer to host such a significant event. Leia gripped tightly onto Han’s arm as they walked, mainly as a gesture of support but partly to ensure he didn’t change his mind and run off in the other direction; everything about his present demeanour pointed to the latter as a distinct possibility.

“You know... it's not too late for me to find a sabacc game down in mid-city. I can always catch up with you later,” Han muttered as they paced the last few meters to the entrance, his words confirming Leia’s suspicions about his train of thought.

They pulled up just short of the doors and Leia stepped around to face him, conscious of how her new high heels gave her a slightly different perspective on his features. Although he’d striven for a joking tone, she knew him well enough to know that his jest was half-serious; indeed, she’d expected him to have second thoughts long before now. Smiling up at him, she brushed a few specks of lint from his shoulders and stretched up to give him a reassuring peck on the cheek. “No way, Flyboy. I’m counting on you now. And, anyway, you look too good in that uniform. You’d be wasted anywhere else but in a grand ballroom,” she declared.

He allowed her sincere compliment to charm a smile back into his eyes and then gave her trim figure the once-over in return. “You’re not so bad yourself, Sweetheart.”

Leia rolled her eyes at him and then glanced down at herself, admiring her own choice of attire all over again. She was dressed in one of the new formal gowns she’d recently purchased on Chandrila to support her return to a more public diplomatic role. It was pale gold in color and crafted from rich fabrics; brocade on the fitted bodice and long sleeves, dropping to an elegant ruched taffeta skirt, accented by a swirl of diaphanous tulle that draped down to her ankles. It was a stunning creation and a far cry from the drab military uniform and standard Alliance-issue leisure wear she’d been living in for the past few years.

Han seemed to appreciate the garment, too, but for different reasons. “That dress is somethin’ else,” he rumbled appreciatively. “Can’t wait to take it off you.”

Leia snorted softly and pivoted around to face the doors again as she slipped her hand through the crook of his arm.

“Alright, enough stalling,” she said. “Ready?”

“Raring to go,” Han muttered as they advanced.

White-gloved attendants swung open the doors to allow them to pass through. The room was vast, luxuriously appointed and lavishly decorated, filled with humans and non-humans alike, all impeccably attired in the finest regalia their unique species dictated. The room was buzzing with a cacophony of sounds, as countless languages merged to create a din that, at times, rose above the strains of delicate orchestral music. Leia took in the room in one sweep; twin refreshment bars flanked both sides of the room, a large dais at the far side held a podium for the guest speakers, and several clusters of casual seating rimmed a broad floor filled with tables for the dinner service. It was all very impressive and very _formal._

Leia felt Han tense slightly, and she clutched tighter to his arm. She knew exactly what was running through his mind. It was disconcerting enough for him to be unarmed, uniformed and on display like this, let alone that they were making an appearance as a couple for essentially the first time on the galactic stage, and likely to draw considerable attention as a consequence. Leia was long accustomed to standing in the spotlight, but Han had lingered in the shadows for many years. The fact that he was participating in these events largely for her sake—taking not just a step, but a plunging dive into her world just to be with her and to support the cause so dear to her heart—was not lost on Leia. She loved him like crazy, and never more so than in this moment.

Han dipped his head slightly and bent down to whisper in Leia’s ear. “Boy, do you owe me.”

Leia fought to maintain her regal composure, suppressing a laugh. Even though he was here of his own accord, she knew exactly how Han would hope to be recompensed for the upcoming tedium of this evening. She didn’t mind him maintaining the pretense of reluctance, though, and she certainly wouldn’t mind negotiating his _compensation._ “I’ll pay up later,” she whispered back.

Stepping over the threshold, they were greeted immediately by a male Drall—an elder, judging by his grey muzzle and the streaks of white shot through his reddish-brown fur; Leia recognized him at once as Yasc Na’Run, the Chancellor of Sacorria. He offered a deep bow to Leia, which she acknowledged with a graceful forward tilt of her head.

“Welcome, Your Highness,” Na’Run purred in his low, gruff voice.“We are so honored that you could attend. There are a great many here who wish to make your acquaintance.” As Leia murmured a polite response, his gaze flicked over to Han for a fraction of a second, then snapped back to give him a closer look, his close-set ears twitching almost imperceptibly as a flash of recognition crossed his fine features. “General Solo,” he offered with a nod, “welcome.” The Chancellor turned back to impart Leia a flash of compact white teeth in the Drallan equivalent of a smile. “Allow me to procure you refreshments. We have a lovely Daruvvian sparkling wine which I am certain you will enjoy. Please, feel free to circulate among the other guests. I shall return.” He repeated his earlier bow, dipping even lower than the first. As he retreated backwards, his clawed hand almost swept the floor.

“Wow,” Han observed acerbically as the Chancellor departed. “Judging by that, I’m quite possibly in the same category as the floral arrangements. Purely decorative.”

Leia elbowed him in the ribs. “Behave,” she chided. “I think you shocked him. Has anyone ever actually _seen_ you in full uniform? And, to be fair, he probably wasn’t expecting to see you at all; we didn’t give much advance notice that you’d be accompanying me.” She gave him a sideways glance up and down, fascinated again by how the clean lines of the uniform hugged his body, accentuating the taper of broad shoulder to narrow hip; he was freshly clean-shaven, and even his normally unruly hair had co-operated for a change, having benefited from a recent trim. Alliance grey had never looked so good. “Besides, you are looking rather more... _ornamental_ this evening than usual,” she teased.

Uncharacteristically, he didn’t latch onto her verbal sally with a comment of his own. Instead, he continued to scan the room, as if looking for a suitably dark corner into which he could disappear. Sensing the waves of discomfort that were rolling from him more strongly now, Leia felt the need to express her appreciation for his gesture once again. Angling around to face him, she placed her hand on his chest and fixed him with a serious look. “Han, I can’t begin to tell you what it’s worth to me, having you here."

He dropped his gaze to hers. “Oh, I know what it’s worth, Sweetheart. I’m running a tab.” He gave her an exaggerated leer, then broke into a genuine smile at her exasperated chuff of reproval. He caught her hand in his and gave it a light squeeze as his voice took on a more serious tone. “I’m fine, Leia. Don’t worry ‘bout me.”

“Such a scoundrel,” Leia admonished under her breath, turning towards the doors and taking his arm once more. She was soothed by his reassurance, and confident now that he would see the evening through with good grace. “Now, smile. Here comes the Ambassador to Duros.”

  


-:¦:--:¦:--:¦:-

Smoothing down the skirt of her formal gown and giving her hair and makeup a final check in the mirror, Leia prepared to rejoin the gathering. The evening’s festivities were in full swing, dinner was about to be served and the attendants had begun to circulate throughout the room to assist the guests to their assigned seating. Having been introduced to virtually every one of the delegates in the vast hall, Leia had finally excused herself to visit the fresher, leaving Han to chat with the representative from Bantu.

Retracing her steps to the side entrance from which she’d departed the hall, Leia caught the eye of a young human male hovering at the perimeter of the room. He appeared to take note of her return with interest and offered the faintest hint of a nod in her direction as she crossed his path. Before Han had appeared and sprung his surprise, Leia had been somewhat leery of travelling to Dorthus Tal without any sort of personal security to accompany her. Although the power of the Empire was in steep decline and the war was clearly winding down, it wasn’t over _yet._ Leia knew there were still plenty of Imperialists out there who would count her assassination as an honorable act, something to be proud of accomplishing, and she was still always on her guard. It felt risky to be making such a public appearance on a Core World, but she and the Alliance High Command had been assured that Sacorria’s stringent law enforcement bureau would provide her with tight, covert security for the duration of the conference. She made a mental note to thank the local authorities for remaining true to their word, and offered the young man a barely perceptible acknowledging nod of her own as she passed.

As she passed over the threshold into the Grand Hall, Leia accepted a drink from a passing attendant and then positioned herself in a relatively quiet pocket of the vast room, enjoying the temporary lull in what had been a nearly continuous string of formal introductions and polite small-talk that she was finding—much to her surprise—extraordinarily tiring.

_If_ I’m _so out of practice, I wonder how Han is coping._

Scanning the milling crowd, she located Han not far from where she’d left him, noting that the Bantuan had moved on and Han had now garnered the interest of the emissary from Devaron. The Devaronian’s thick mane of brilliant white hair shimmered in sharp contrast to her greenish skin, and she listened attentively and laughed while Han spoke, clearly captivated by the conversation. Once the emissary had taken her leave, Leia watched as Han was approached by a series of several more delegates. He greeted each one in turn, offering a polite bow or a brief clasp of the hand, following the customs of each species and culture he encountered.

Observing Han in action, Leia marveled at what an enigma he truly was; a remarkable juxtaposition of devil and diplomat who never failed to surprise her. Despite the cocky, prickly, and irreverent persona he usually displayed to everyone on first acquaintance, it was clear that he was quite familiar with formal functions such as this and knew how to comport himself. He was, of course, perfectly capable of being an ass if he so chose; in fact, he seemed to exercise that ability with alarming regularity. But Leia knew he recognized the importance of her mission here, and she trusted him to support the work. Indeed, he hadn’t inadvertently offended or deliberately provoked anyone—not yet, anyway—nor had he done anything to touch off an intergalactic incident. In fact, he seemed to be charming the socks off everyone he encountered. She smiled to herself.

_Making progress, Flyboy._

Watching him, she was reminded of what she knew of Han’s early life on Corellia, scant details of which he’d finally confided to her during their journey from Hoth to Bespin a little more than a year ago. Born into a family of wealth and privilege as the heir to one the galaxy’s foremost military shipbuilding corporations, his formative years would no doubt have included formal instruction in etiquette, customs and the social decorum necessary to carry himself in these circles. Though he’d chosen at a young age to follow his own moral compass and had adamantly rejected a lifestyle supported by slavery and Imperial oppression, it was clear that those early lessons had been quickly recalled this evening, and it hadn’t taken him long to adapt. She observed with admiration how he now appeared to move with relative ease among the distinguished group.

Not only had he seemed to shift from his familiar world into hers as easily as he’d donned that uniform, he was playing his role tonight to polished perfection. In fact, his charismatic presence and power of persuasion seemed to be amassing a great deal of attention for the cause. Though he normally shunned the spotlight, he _was indeed_ a hero of the Rebellion and his many contributions to their most significant victories were now widely acknowledged throughout the galaxy. To Leia’s gratification, whispers of conversations she’d overheard indicated that support for the Alliance was solid among the Core officials and growing, and if the tone among the attendees was any indication, she expected offers of manpower and funds to begin streaming in.

Furthermore, Leia was aware of a buzz that surrounded their appearance together. Although she hadn’t planned it, she supposed it did amount to a public statement of sorts and the galactic press were probably going to have a field day with it, once the excitement over the conference itself subsided. Leia was accustomed to being a high-profile symbol of the rebellion against the Empire and her status as the last princess of Alderaan attracted plenty of attention at all times. But now that the long war seemed to be drawing to a close, it seemed people were hungry for more frivolous distractions, and her romance with Han Solo would probably fit that bill neatly. She wondered if Han had fully considered those implications when he’d made his offer to accompany her. She doubted it, but she also doubted that he would care overmuch. Certainly, he’d shrugged off far more serious concerns when he’d committed to a life with her. And while Leia wasn’t entirely comfortable with their relationship becoming fodder for the galactic gossip channels, she also knew that—in the world of politics, at least—any attention was preferable to being ignored.

As she sipped her drink and watched Han’s encounters through her musings, she noticed a sudden change come over him. All at once a shadow crossed his features and his relaxed smile disappeared, replaced by a look of shock and recognition, as his attention became focused on something well beyond those standing near him. Tracking his gaze, Leia’s eye was drawn across the room to a human woman who had just entered the Grand Hall, arriving late and without an escort. She was young—perhaps a year or two older than Leia—but she held herself with an air of self-assurance that belied her apparent age. Tall and shapely, dressed in a fitted gown of midnight blue, with her glossy dark hair upswept into a classic style, she looked elegant and sophisticated to Leia’s eye. Glancing back at Han, Leia saw the moment when his shock turned into something else—something powerful and strange that transformed his handsome features completely; it was an expression Leia had never before seen on his face, and her mild curiosity over the encounter intensified.

At that moment, an attendant appeared by Leia’s side, interrupting her thoughts. “Your Highness,” he intoned, “kindly follow me; it is my pleasure to see you to your table.” 

She turned to thank the man and moved to follow him, glancing back again towards Han. He was on the move now, but not in her direction. Instead, he was angling through the crowd towards the entrance, giving tight nods of acknowledgement to beings who evidently recognized him and spoke to him, but otherwise seeming completely focused on the woman in the blue dress. Turning away from the sight, Leia concentrated on reaching her place at one of the large round tables that filled the central portion of the room. She waited for the attendant to pull back her chair, then took a moment to settle herself in her seat before she glanced towards the entrance again. Han had reached the doors, and there could be no mistake; he’d definitely recognized the young woman who had just arrived. In fact, he was looming over her now, his hand reaching to capture one of hers. The woman clutched at him and stared, her pretty oval face a perfect image of pure shock; her mouth fell open and her eyes widened as she gaped at Han in apparent consternation, mingled with a look of joy and surprise. Even from a distance, Leia could see the woman’s pale cheeks color visibly before she flung her arms around Han’s neck in a tight embrace.

“Princess Leia, what a pleasure to see you again!” A booming voice from Leia’s side dragged her attention away from the scene. She turned her head to see the familiar dark-skinned face of Andros Ortis, the newly appointed Korunnai ambassador to the Galactic Senate—at least, that _would_ be his position, once the war was officially over and that institution was formally restored. Leia greeted Ortis with a warm smile and a clasp of hands, then gave her attention to the rest of her dinner companions as they were seated and exchanged greetings or introductions around the table. Leia’s interest in Han’s reunion with his old friend was strong, but her diplomatic training came to the fore, and kept her focused on being a gracious guest and performing her role as an ambassador. In fact, she became so swept up in the conversation around the table, she was slightly jolted when an attendant leaned in to fill her wine glass some time later, and said, “I beg your pardon, Your Highness, but will General Solo not be joining us for dinner after all?” He gestured to the empty place beside Leia and awaited her response.

Leia felt a strange emotion ripple through her at the question and noted with some surprise how she could feel her heartbeat suddenly pulsing in her ears. Although she recognized her own response for what it was, she still marveled at it; Han had never given her the slightest reason to feel jealous of other women. Even within the first year of their acquaintance, long before they’d given in to their mutual attraction and embarked upon a romantic relationship, Han had very noticeably curtailed his habit of flirting with every female who passed through his orbit. He’d opted instead to focus all of his amorous attentions on pursuing Leia herself, and in the past two years she’d never seen him give another woman so much as a glance. Giving herself a little mental shake, she smiled up at the attendant. “Yes, I’m sure he’ll be along soon. He’d prefer the Corellian brandy, if you still have it available?” 

As the attendant bowed in acknowledgement and turned to fulfill her request, Leia cast a quick glance over her shoulder and was relieved to see Han making his way towards her now, accepting the direction of another attendant who, motioning towards Leia, indicated the path he should take. Han’s gaze found hers and Leia’s experienced eye read the signs of tension there, although by the time he reached the table and took the seat beside her, he’d plastered a broad smile on his face for the benefit of their dinner companions. As he exchanged polite greetings around the table, though, his hand sought hers under the table, entwining their fingers with an intensity that made Leia wonder again at the nature of his encounter with the young woman in blue. Han had a great sabacc face, and his cheerful and charming demeanor would have fooled almost anyone, but Leia could see the strain in his features. She was tempted—only for a moment—to reach out to him through the Force, to get a better reading of his emotional state, but the impulse quickly passed. It wasn’t the sort of thing she wanted to get into the habit of doing and, in any case, she wasn’t entirely sure that it would be fair to Han to use her advantage in that way. She opted instead to keep the conversation at a superficial level, though she hoped he would decide to volunteer the information that would satisfy her curiosity.

“Hey,” she said under her breath, her tone light and teasing. “You okay, General? Or should I call you _Ambassador?_ You’ve been working the room like a professional.”

A wry smile tugged at the corner of his mouth, and he lifted their joined hands to his lips in a courtly gesture that warmed her heart. As he returned her smile, his changeable eyes twinkled in the light of the hovering glow-lamps. “I think I’ll go back to smuggling, Sweetheart,” he said. “I’m worn out. I forgot how much hard work goes into acting so _civilized_."

Reassured by his show of affection and his easy manner, Leia turned her attention back to their companions and, eventually, to the delicious meal when it was served. Beside her, Han continued throughout dinner to act out his adopted role, but Leia couldn’t shake the feeling that he’d been profoundly affected by the encounter with the woman at the door, who seemed to have vanished as quickly as she’d appeared. Although there were no obvious outward signs of his discomfiture, as the evening wore on Han seemed increasingly tense until, finally, he seemed to Leia to be radiating distress like a warning beacon. Leia had to acknowledge with some chagrin that, even without actively trying, she was reading his emotional state through the Force. 

Instinct told her to save her questions for later, though. Immediately following dinner, she had a speech to give and it was an important one that required all of her attention. Firmly setting aside the unspoken issue with Han and his mysterious acquaintance, Leia turned her thoughts to formulating the appeal that she hoped would sway the hearts and minds of the galactic delegates who filled the room.

-:¦:--:¦:--:¦:-

**

To be continued...

**

Thanks to beta readers **suezahn** and **YellinYee.**  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Hope you're enjoying so far.


	4. Reaction

With a final smile and a wave to the crowd, Leia returned to her seat as applause thundered around her, feeling as though she were walking on air. Upon taking the stage, she had delivered her message with straightforward sincerity, articulating with candor and conviction the necessity of uniting the planets. With rising passion, she called upon those who wished to be seen as allies to lend every form of aid—political, material or otherwise—towards the common goal of eradicating the last vestiges of the evil Empire. 

As she’d mentioned to Han, she needed little preparation to deliver such a speech; after so many years of living for the moment when the tide would finally turn, the words she required came easily to her. _We gather to celebrate our victories,_ she’d pronounced, _but we cannot allow ourselves to become complacent. We must continue the battle; we must render our aid and convey our message of hope to the farthest reaches of the galaxy, to those still suffering under the yoke of Imperial oppression. We call upon you all to take up the fight alongside us, to bring an end to tyranny and usher in a new era of freedom and peace._ Her rallying address had earned her a standing ovation, and she was now more certain than ever that further support for the New Republic would come swiftly and in abundance.

As she took her seat, only one tiny problem marred the occasion and diminished her elation at her success—the chair beside her was once again vacant, and Han was nowhere to be seen.

At a critical juncture of her presentation, Leia had spotted the elegant young woman in blue as she left the table where she’d been seated near the front, and worked her way to the back of the room, slipping through one of the sets of doors to the hallway beyond. Shortly thereafter, she saw Han follow suit, leaving their table and easing out through the same doors, trailing in the woman’s wake. Leia had been jolted by an unexpected feeling of disquiet, but her time in the Senate had afforded her the discipline necessary to quell such distractions, and she had continued her speech despite her turmoil. Now that she was seated again, the empty chair beside her—and the continued absence of the woman in blue—amplified her feelings of uneasiness.

Leia recognized the faint stirrings of suspicion beginning to churn, and she chided herself for allowing the unfamiliar emotion to overtake her reason. She was reading far too much into the situation, she knew, allowing her imagination to run in dubious directions without the benefit of explanation or facts. Han had never given her any cause to doubt his devotion or his fidelity, and to leap first of all to tawdry conclusions was as preposterous as it was unbefitting of either of their characters. The most logical explanation was that he wasn’t _with_ the other woman at all; perhaps it was a simple coincidence, one easily explained upon his return. Still, the vacant chair served to provoke her the longer it remained empty, and she began to feel irritation rising alongside the suspicion.

With dinner concluded, Chancellor Na’Run took the podium again and, after thanking each speaker in turn for their contributions to the evening, invited the guests to proceed next door to the Grand Ballroom, where after-dinner drinks would be served, and music and dancing would soon begin. Leia made her way along with the slowly milling crowd, smiling and murmuring thanks in response to congratulations and well-wishes from those who had appreciated the content of her speech. More than one delegate offered words of admiration and encouragement, as well as promises of support, and Leia felt a thrill of excited pleasure at having achieved at least one of her mission objectives with ease. Even if only half of those who pledged their assistance actually delivered it, the Empire would be further weakened and the New Republic would be on much firmer ground.

Leia walked along with the other guests into the Grand Ballroom and took a few moments as she paced the length of the hall to admire the stunning beauty of its elaborate design, the vaulted ceiling and the intricate detail of the white painted carved-wood panels, architectural flourishes and gilt accents. The carpeting was plush and soft underfoot, the walls lined with rich tapestries and works of art from a hundred different worlds. It was a relic of a bygone age, reminiscent of some of the grander places Leia had visited in her youth, and as far removed as it was possible to be from the stark military environment to which she had lately become accustomed.

It was an enormous room, even larger than the banquet hall they’d just vacated, and there were five sets of double doors spaced evenly along one long wall that opened to lush garden terraces, their flanking curtains stirring in the cool evening breeze. Many amongst the crowd, perhaps overheated with too much wine and rich food, gravitated naturally in that direction and spilled out through the doors. Peering through the first of the broad openings as she passed, Leia saw that it led out onto a vast stone terrace, softly lit with hundreds of tiny golden glow-lamps that hovered high over the heads of the smiling, chattering guests. Turning her attention back to the interior, Leia saw a group of musicians in formal attire just taking their seats on a low platform situated at the far end of the hall.

But to Leia’s dismay, there was still no sign of Han anywhere, nor of his mysterious acquaintance.

Despite her earlier attempts at rationality, Leia began to fume. She knew he’d never deliberately hurt her, but he could be so _inconsiderate_ at times, and even downright _rude._ He’d left in the middle of her speech and now, a quarter of an hour later, he still hadn’t bothered to find her and tell her what was going on. As the music started up, filling the air with sweeping orchestral sounds that immediately drew dancers to the broad ballroom floor, Leia realized she was beginning to formulate the beginnings of a diatribe in her mind. By the time he reappeared, she suspected she would have a few choice words for Han Solo.

As those fractious thoughts flitted through her mind, she felt a light touch on her elbow and turned to see the smiling face of Andros Ortis, her erstwhile dinner companion, who offered his arm and invited her to dance. Lifting her chin and summoning a smile, Leia accepted his invitation, and the next few minutes passed in a whirl as they moved around the room together in a lively version of the classic _ouree._ It had been years since Leia had danced like this and, despite her uneasiness over Han’s absence, she found herself enjoying the experience tremendously. It reminded her of relatively carefree days on Alderaan and, although those memories were bittersweet, she realized she was smiling from ear to ear as they moved around the floor. Ambassador Ortis was a charming companion who was full of effusive praise for Leia’s rousing speech, and brimming with enthusiasm for the future of the New Republic. Indeed, Leia was so caught up in their conversation, she gladly accepted when the music changed and he asked if she would care to continue their dance. A few moments into the second number—a grand, romantic piece designed to accompany slow, sweeping movements in expansive circles around the floor—Leia was surprised to see Han moving alongside them and, with a courteous nod to Ortis, smoothly cut in. As the ambassador bowed his farewell, Leia felt herself swept along once more, only this time in the arms of her handsome, wandering lover.

A string of demanding questions sprang to her mind— _Where have you been? Who is that woman? Why did you walk out in the middle of my speech?_ —but she swallowed them all, settling instead for fixing him with a meaningful look as they moved around the room with the rest of the dancers. Despite her earlier doubts, she noted with appreciation that he’d been telling the truth when he said he could dance. His athletic body seemed made for it, in fact. The warmth of his hand in hers and the strength of his arm braced around her back made Leia feel utterly secure, and her footsteps light as air. At any other time she would have thoroughly enjoyed the sensation of being masterfully whirled around the dance floor by Han Solo in full dress uniform, but now she felt only a sense of foreboding. Something was wrong. Before she could formulate a question, though, he cleared his throat and spoke.

“Sorry about ducking out earlier, Princess,” he said in a restrained tone, turning them expertly in time with the music. “I, uh, ran into someone I used to know.”

Leia felt a touch of relief at his words; at least he wasn’t trying to hide anything from her. She looked up at him as they moved in unison through the intricate but familiar steps of the _couradole_ and waited until he dropped his gaze to hers before she spoke. “I was beginning to wonder. I saw you leave with her.”

Han gave a curt nod and then looked away again as they completed another circuit of the room, apparently oblivious to the suggestive edge in Leia’s voice that she hadn’t quite managed to suppress. Although to outward appearances he looked relaxed and confident, Leia could feel the tension radiating from him, and she could sense that his mind was far away. He didn’t seem to be preparing any sort of explanation for his behaviour, however, other than the bare statement he’d already offered. Leia tamped down her rising irritation and tried a casual query, keeping her tone light. “An old friend of yours?”

Han’s arm tightened around her and he looked down at her again with a strange expression on his face. Some emotion she’d never seen before flickered through his shadowed eyes. “Something like that,” he acknowledged, his voice hoarse.

He offered nothing more, but before Leia could press him on the matter, the musical piece came to an end with a grand flourish, and the dancers stopped to break into soft applause and lively chatter. As another number began, Han drew Leia smoothly to one side of the vast room out of the way of the cavorting guests. He seemed about to say something then, but he hesitated, looking more uncertain of himself than Leia had ever witnessed. As she watched him gathering his words, they were interrupted by the excited arrival of Lady Marzenia Ashnus, the Sacorrian Minister of Culture, whose bright voice and colourful ensemble were difficult to ignore.

“Oh, Your Highness, I do beg your pardon. I hate to interrupt you when you’re dancing. Opportunities like this have been so scarce these past few years, haven’t they?” Her words were delivered all in a rush, her melodic voice lilting above the music. “But, Princess, you simply _must_ come with me to the East Gallery before the attendant closes it up for the evening. There’s something there I know you would love to see!” Her prismatic eyes were alight with enthusiasm and her mass of fuchsia curls waved wildly around her cheerful face. She cast an apologetic glance in Han’s direction and then did a classic double-take. “Why, General Solo! How lovely to see you again! I didn’t realize you would be in attendance. How marvelous!”

One corner of Han’s mouth tilted up in a half-smile. “Last minute change of plans, Minister.”

“You must come along, too, of course,” Lady Ashnus gushed, then lowered her voice with a conspiratorial air and looked at Leia. “There’s an Alderaani moss painting on loan here from Imperial—er, _Galactic_ City,” she whispered gleefully. “It’s exquisite, and so rare! I knew you’d want to see it straight away.”

Leia tried to hide the pained expression she felt sure must show on her face. Her first impulse was to demur. Although she did love Alderaani moss paintings and they were, of course, exceedingly rare, at the moment she would much prefer to find out what was bothering Han. But it seemed unnecessarily mean of her to dismiss the Minister’s thoughtful gesture, and the woman’s keen enthusiasm was difficult to resist. Visiting the gallery would take only a few minutes, after all. Leia looked at Han, raising a quizzical eyebrow, but was unsurprised when he gave a slight shake of his head.

“You go ahead,” he said. “I should get back to my...friend.”

With a murmured apology to Lady Ashnus, Han leaned in to speak to Leia in a low voice before he took his leave. “We’ll be out on the terrace,” he said quietly. “Come find us when you’re done.”

-:¦:--:¦:--:¦:-

Leia couldn’t subdue the ominous sensation of dread that coursed through her as she stepped out into the cool night air of the terrace a short time later. Feeling remotely in a state of fugue, she’d trailed alongside Lady Ashnus who chatted incessantly on the way to the gallery, pointing out and describing in painstaking detail along the way several other priceless pieces acquired by the Saccorian government that adorned the vaulted corridors of the expansive palace. Lady Ashnus had not been erroneous in her description of the moss painting; it was exquisite, a precious artifact from Leia’s lost world—and under any other circumstances she would have been enthralled by the bittersweet reminder of her culture. Instead, the minister’s chatter was drowned out by the echo of Han’s parting words, which continued to run through Leia’s mind, overshadowing all other thoughts.

_We’ll be out on the terrace. Come find us when you’re done._

_We? Us?_ Leia frowned. She’d found Han’s casual use of the collective to be mildly unsettling in a way that she didn’t care to examine too closely. It put a cold chill in the pit of her stomach to hear him refer to himself and another woman in a way that sounded almost... _cozy._ She felt—absurdly, ridiculously, irrationally—excluded. And although she was embarrassed to admit it, even to herself, she was filled with apprehension at the thought of meeting the mysterious woman from his past. It was one thing to be aware that Han had enjoyed intimate relationships with other women before her, but being confronted by one of those women in person was another matter entirely.

The terrace itself was enormous, a substantial structure that spanned the entire length of the palace’s upper floor, and it was still crowded with revelers enjoying respite from the warm interior. Unable to locate Han at first glance, Leia moved to the massive stone balustrade that looked down over the broad city square. All around the square the backdrop of Dorthus Tal, normally sparsely lit, was alive with lights for the upcoming _Siribati_ festival. Strings of lights and lanterns in every imaginable hue were suspended over the narrow streets, lights were threaded through branches of trees, and brightly lit lamps illuminated every door and window, casting lengthening shadows across the entire landscape. Combined with the glow of artfully suspended lanterns that appeared to levitate overhead, the effect was ethereal, giving the impression of floating amidst a sea of multicolored stars. Leia sighed heavily as she took in the view; she only wished she felt as serene as the scene laid out before her.

Turning away, she scanned the crowd for sight of Han’s familiar figure. When she didn’t spot him immediately, she began to make her way through the jostling clusters of chatting, laughing guests, silently cursing her short height. She stretched up on tiptoe to peer over myriad shoulders clad in formal wear, dress uniforms, fur, feathers and scales, all the while hoping fervently that she would be able to navigate the width of the terrace and find Han before she was pulled into yet another conversation with yet another jovial delegate. Silently willing everyone around her to ignore her presence, she nudged her way through knot after knot of revelers, keeping her eyes and ears open for any sign of Han.

The instant she spotted him, though, Leia felt her stomach plunge. He was with the young woman and they were leaning together on the balustrade at the far edge of the broad terrace. The woman was balancing on her toes to peer over the edge of the rail, and Han had placed a hand on her shoulder, leaning in so closely that his cheek pressed almost to hers, and lining up her sight with his outstretched hand as he pointed out something in the square below. The woman threw her head back and laughed, clearly enjoying whatever private joke they’d just shared. She turned and leaned back against the balustrade, took a sip of her wine and regarded Han over the rim of her glass, an unmistakable look of affection and admiration etched on her pretty face. Leia’s heart sank to the floor as she watched Han reach towards the woman to smooth away a few stray strands of hair that had come loose from her elegant chignon.

Leia did not now, nor had she ever felt any sort of insecurity in her relationship with Han; they were loyal to each other, and her rational self knew unequivocally that one evening’s chance encounter with a spectre from his past could not shake the foundation of that commitment. That rational self, however, was presently being choked to death by an emotion far outside her usual frame of reference as she watched the tender display between Han and his companion. A thousand possible responses flashed through her mind as she looked at them—some of them more violent than others, but all of them highly inappropriate. She swallowed hard against the knot in her throat and drew a deep breath to steady her nerves.

Before she had the opportunity to think through exactly what she should do or say, however, the woman looked out from behind Han’s towering frame, and her gaze connected with Leia’s for a fleeting moment. She gripped his forearm, and indicated Leia’s presence with a slight jerk of her chin.

Leia stood rooted to the spot as Han turned to face her, and she was suddenly conscious of the fact that she was standing with her arms tightly folded and her chin tilted up in a posture she recognized as defensive. With some effort, she loosened her stance and clasped her hands together. Although the impending conversation was likely to be somewhat uncomfortable, she reminded herself that she’d certainly been through worse. Summoning a smile, she met Han’s gaze.

He crossed the few steps to close the distance between them and engulfed her in a warm embrace. “Hey, Sweetheart,” he murmured in a voice meant for her ears only. “I was beginning to think you’d been waylaid again." He pressed his lips to her forehead, then pulled away slightly and added in a brighter tone, “There’s someone I want you to meet." Draping an arm over Leia’s shoulders, he steered her back toward the woman in blue, who was waiting patiently by the edge of the terrace.

Finally face-to-face with someone from Han’s past who didn’t seem intent on betraying him or doing him harm, Leia’s curiosity got the better of her. She met the woman’s clear green eyes and smiled, inclining her head politely. In the brief moment it took for Han to draw a deep breath, the woman smiled back, presenting a broad, lopsided grin that looked strangely familiar.

“Princess Leia Organa,” Han intoned, “meet Miss Neva Kuat. My sister.”

-:¦:--:¦:--:¦:-

To be continued...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We appreciate the kudos and lovely comments. Thanks for reading!


	5. Relation

Leia clamped her mouth shut the instant she realized it had dropped open, faintly mortified by the lapse in her diplomatic comportment. She was also embarrassed to acknowledge inwardly the flood of relief she felt now that she knew the mysterious woman was Han’s sister and not a former lover.

_Sister? Of course she’s his sister. Just look at her, Organa!_

Neva’s hair was darker and glossier than Han’s and her eyes were decidedly green, whereas Han’s hazel eyes seemed to shift depending upon his mood and circumstances. She was tall, although not quite as tall as her brother, and as slender as he was lean, despite her feminine curves. Her smooth skin was pale as cream, while his was bronzed from being kissed by so many suns—but still, there was a remarkable physical similarity between them that Leia could easily see, now that she was looking for it. Recovering her poise, she offered the other woman a genuine smile and extended her hand.

“Miss Kuat,” Leia greeted her formally. “What a pleasure to meet you.” She would have liked to follow that comment with something like _I’ve heard so much about you_ , but the truth was Han almost never talked about the family he’d left behind on Corellia. Their acrimonious split had occurred many years ago and, to Leia’s knowledge, Han hadn’t spoken to any of them since.

“Please, call me Neva,” the other woman replied, clasping Leia’s hand warmly. “And I hope you will accept my apologies for stealing Han away.” She looked at her brother with eyes full of wonder. “I was just so amazed to see him in person after all these years. I couldn’t believe it.”

“Of course, I understand.” Leia smiled. She realized as she spoke that the situation between Han and his sister was potentially more fraught than it had first appeared. Given the unhappy circumstances of their separation—Han’s violent disruption of an Imperial slave exchange on Kashyyyk, his subsequent court martial and the eventual renouncement of his family—there were few topics of conversation that could be considered _safe_ , especially here at a Core Worlds conference celebrating the Alliance’s victories over the Empire. Leia drew a deep breath and then said, carefully, “You two must have quite a lot of catching up to do.”

“That’s exactly what we’ve been doin’, Sweetheart,” Han said brightly, a beaming smile lighting up his handsome face. “I was just explaining to Neva how a guy like me happened to wind up decorating the arm of a beautiful princess.”

Something in his over-jovial tone alerted Leia to the fact that, whatever Neva’s true feelings might be on the matter of their unexpected reunion, Han was not entirely happy about it. Even without using the Force to detect his mood—and with her own jealous fears no longer clouding her mind—she could easily read the tension in his face and body.

“Is that so?” she said, adopting a mocking tone. “And what is _your version_ of the romantic tale, Hotshot?” Leia deployed the nickname and gave him a teasing smile to let him know that she was playing along, keeping the mood light, though she could sense his misgivings. Remembering the sight of his tender gesture towards Neva a few moments earlier, Leia realized that he was probably deeply conflicted over seeing his sister again, and she knew at least some of the reasons why.

He’d told her the story of his bitter break with his family in bits and pieces, beginning during their sub-light journey to Bespin and in a few revelatory moments here and there in the six months since his rescue from Tatooine. Buried under the bare facts and bitter recollections, Leia had detected a slender thread of genuine regret on the few occasions when he’d mentioned his younger siblings. They’d been kids when Han departed; his brother, Sulvan, had been fifteen and Neva just eleven. Of all the things he’d given up when he cut ties with his family, perhaps the only loss Han regretted at all was the connection to his brother and sister.

Neva seemed oblivious to the undercurrents that Leia could sense, and was now laughingly urging Han to relay to Leia what he’d just been telling her about how they’d met. When he demurred, shaking his head and hiding his expression behind a sip of wine, Neva turned to Leia and said, “He tried to tell me he _kidnapped_ you on the eve of your wedding to a wealthy prince and held you captive until you surrendered to his charms!” Neva smirked, looking remarkably like her brother as she did so. “Han was always telling outrageous stories when we were kids. I suppose some things never change.”

Leia blinked, disconcerted. The story of her rescue by Luke, Han and Chewie was widely known; High Command had made certain of that in an effort to counteract the Emperor’s false report of her death after she was captured aboard the _Tantive IV_ and imprisoned aboard the first _Death Star_. Before she could voice her confusion, however, Neva laughed.

“Oh, I know the true story of how you met,” she assured Leia. “ _Everybody_ knows the tale of Luke Skywalker, Han ‘Solo’ and Chewbacca the Wookiee rescuing the beautiful princess. The propaganda vid of that awards ceremony was all over the Holonet, and the destruction of the first _Death Star_ was the main story on every galactic news broadcast for _months_ , even in our circles. My parents were mortified, of course, after they got over the shock. And they were _so_ happy Han had changed his last name.” As she spoke those words, she fixed her brother with a more serious look and said quietly, “But I was proud of you."

Han seemed to squirm under the praise, and Leia could guess at what he was thinking; he’d been a somewhat reluctant participant in her rescue—at least, at first—and it had taken him right up until the last minute to join Luke and the rest of the squadron in the assault on the _Death Star_. None of that diminished his valor in Leia’s eyes, but she knew how uncomfortable it made him to have those deeds lauded openly. Smiling faintly, she decided to make him squirm a little more, but with better cause.

“That’s not the only time Han saved my life,” Leia informed Neva. “In fact, I’ve lost count of the ways and hows. We’ve had many...adventures together.” She cast a sidelong glance at Han. “And he was, of course, responsible for leading the strike team that took down the shield at Endor. So that’s two Death Stars reduced to space dust because of him.”

“Impressive,” Neva said with a smile. “But not surprising. Han always did like to be the center of attention.”

“I did what was right,” Han replied tersely. “Wish I could say the same for our family.”

Neva’s smile faded and she dropped her gaze, then lifted her glass to her lips for a sip of wine. Leia looked at Han and realized with a pang of dismay that her amiable commendation had backfired. His flinty eyes were fixed on his sister and there was a tension in the muscles of his jaw that told Leia he was expending some effort to withhold further commentary. Clearly, something in their light conversation had triggered a change in his mood—probably Neva’s casual mention of their parents, if Leia had to guess—and further reminiscing along those lines was only going to lead them back to the obvious point of contention: Neva and the entire Corellian branch of the Kuat family had been, up until recently, staunch Imperialists. And Han had not only rejected that position long ago, he had openly opposed it, first through teenage rebellion, then by way of treason and sabotage before ultimately joining the Rebels and doing everything in his power to help bring the Empire down.

Glancing between brother and sister, Leia decided it might be prudent to give Han a moment to recover his good humor, and to give herself a chance to take the measure of Neva Kuat without Han’s agitated energy clouding the picture. 

“Where are those servers when you need them?” she remarked lightly, glancing around the crowded terrace. “I haven’t managed to encounter one yet, and I could use a drink.” She gave Han a sweet smile.

He took the heavy hint with good grace and also extended his hand for Neva’s empty glass. “Another?” he asked and gave a curt nod when his sister agreed. “I’ll be right back.”

Leia watched him move off through the crowd, taking a moment to admire the novel and very attractive rear view of Han Solo in dress uniform, before turning back to Neva. She wanted the chance to speak with the woman alone and to get a better sense of her intentions.

_I need to know if I can trust her._

Even in her private thoughts, she realized, she sounded almost defensive when she thought about consciously using the Force. She seemed to be vacillating wildly between exploiting the ability for its usefulness in the political sphere, and trying to pretend it didn’t exist. Ignoring the uncomfortable inner niggle, Leia reached out through that mysterious energy field and, keeping her senses tuned, made the most innocuous remark that came to mind.

“You seem very happy to see your brother,” she said encouragingly, meeting Neva’s eyes. “You must have missed him.”

Neva offered another crooked grin, and Leia was struck once again by the fleeting familiarity of it that she could see in the flash of even, white teeth and the way her eyes crinkled at the corners. She was also relieved to feel a sense of sincerity and genuine goodwill radiating from the young woman as she nodded her dark head slowly, her green eyes shifting to a faraway gaze.

“He was my only ally,” Neva confided quietly, then looked back at Leia with a small shrug. “I don’t know how much he’s told you about our parents, but suffice it to say they’re somewhat... _difficult_. I love them, of course, but they can be harsh at times and...unforgiving of failure.” Neva drew a deep breath. “Han couldn’t stand it when they chastised _me_ , though—even when I deserved it. He was happy to let Sulvan take his own lumps, but whenever I was under fire from either Mother or Father, Han would always intervene. He’d deliberately provoke them, pick a fight and draw their attention to himself.” She paused. “That was something I only realized after he’d left, and I loved him so much for it. It took me a long time to understand that he was never coming back.” Her voice, tinged with sadness, trailed off.

Leia was deeply moved by the insight provided by Neva’s recollection, and grateful for the brief glimpse she’d provided into Han’s early life with his family. It was a subject about which he remained tight-lipped, even with Leia, though he’d confided a basic outline that matched what Neva was telling her now. She nodded in acknowledgement of the other woman’s words.

“That does sound like him,” she said. “On the first day of our acquaintance, he charged headlong after an entire squad of stormtroopers to distract them and give me and Luke time to get away safely.” Leia smiled at the recollection. “I thought he was crazy.”

“Oh, he’s some variety of crazy, no doubt,” Neva laughed, her face brightening at Leia’s words. “At least, he was when he was younger. There was nothing he wouldn’t dare. He seemed absolutely _fearless_ , to me, and he thrived on defying orders and thumbing his nose at authority. He drove our parents right up the wall.”

Leia couldn’t suppress a soft chuckle. “I can just imagine.”

The music wafting through the doors from the adjacent ballroom swelled to a crescendo and Leia was abruptly reminded of where they were; she’d been so shocked by the meeting with Neva, she’d lost all sense of her surroundings. A distant round of applause followed the cessation of the music, signaling the arrival of an intermission, and the terrace grew even more crowded as flushed and smiling dancers began to emerge for a breath of cool evening air. Leia stepped closer to Neva to move out of the way of the influx, then drew her to the farthest corner with a gentle touch on the arm. Positioning herself with her back to the incoming crowd, Leia could only hope that they would remain undisturbed for a few moments longer. 

She felt a twinge of guilt at the thought; she was, after all, on Sacorria to attend to important Alliance business, not personal matters. But the last thing she wanted now was for some politician to grab her by the elbow and try to drag her away for more introductions and small-talk. She was learning so much from Neva and there was more, Leia suspected, simmering under the surface, waiting to be revealed.

Even more important than the personal insights, Leia was developing a stronger sense of Neva herself through the Force. As far as Leia could discern, her energy seemed pure and uncorrupted. Her fondness for her brother seemed genuine enough, and Leia had no doubt that she’d missed Han in the long years of their separation. But Neva couldn’t have known that Han would be here at the conference, which meant she was here with some other purpose in mind, and Leia was curious to discover what that was.

“Han seems to have changed quite a bit since then, though,” Neva commented after they’d settled into their new positions tight up against the stone railing. As she spoke, she tilted her chin and narrowed her eyes in speculative thought; it was an expression so highly reminiscent of her brother, it made Leia grin.

“Oh, he’s still not a big fan of authority,” Leia said wryly, “and he _certainly_ has retained the capacity to drive a person right up the nearest wall. But, yes, he has changed.” She leaned against the terrace railing and gave Neva a thoughtful smile. “I’ve been noticing that more and more lately, myself.”

“I think you must’ve had a lot to do with that,” Neva observed. “Still, it’s hard to believe he’s the same person that tormented me with Bloru worms and multipedes when I was five.”

“Oh, that’s just _mean_. Han did that? I thought you said he was your ally!”

“Yes, he did it all the time, just to drive me crazy. And he was my ally when I really needed it. But he was also the most persistently annoying boy on the planet. No one else could provoke me like he could.”

“Now that _really_ sounds like Han,” Leia said with unbridled conviction. Neva burst out laughing and Leia soon joined in, realizing from Neva’s response just how vehemently she’d spoken. The two of them were still laughing helplessly when Han nudged his way through the crowd and rejoined them. Even without trying, though, Leia sensed him before she saw him; his presence behind her felt like a heat lamp set on _high._ The lighthearted moment faded away, leaving her with a feeling of unease. She knew before she looked at him that his mood had not improved. If anything, his expression seemed rather more intense as he handed Leia a glass of wine and extended the same to Neva. As he took up his place beside her, Leia noted with interest that he’d opted not to take a drink for himself.

“So,” he said without preamble, shoving his hands into the pockets of his uniform trousers and fixing his sister with a piercing stare. “Are you gonna tell us what you’re doing here, Neva?”

Leia fired a glance at him, startled by the directness of his question, although not especially surprised at the nature of it. Despite their earlier fragile attempts at pleasantries and her own confidence in the guilelessness of Neva’s intent, Leia was astute enough to realize that the Corellian woman’s reason for attending the conference was not a casual one, and clearly Han had come to the same conclusion. Though billed as an event to unite the Core systems in the wake of the waning grip of the Empire, there was no mistaking that this gathering was all about political posturing, and the Kuat family had a significant stake in the outcome. Their monumental success to date had been owed almost exclusively to their Imperial associations. And with those connections now almost entirely decimated, they were surely in a weakened, and ultimately vulnerable, position. Leia sipped her wine and waited. Though she’d have phrased the question more delicately herself, she was as keen to hear Neva’s response as Han seemed to be.

Neva cleared her throat delicately and shifted her glance to Leia. “Actually I was hoping to have a chance to meet with _you,_ Your Highness.”

“Me?” Leia asked, feigning bemusement. “Whatever for?”

She drew a deep breath and offered a tight smile, “I’m here in an official capacity on behalf of my family’s company, KDY Industries.” She cast a quick glance in Han’s direction, but pressed ahead, though Leia could detect a distinct spike in the energy field around her. She was suddenly nervous, and trying not to show it. “Kuat Drive Yards would like to formally extend our support to the New Republic.”

Leia nodded, offering the other woman a cool smile in return. She’d suspected as much. She waited politely for Neva to continue.

“Our shipbuilding facilities are prepared to offer you our exclusive services, on very generous terms, to help you rebuild your fleet as quickly as possible.”

“Exclusive?” Leia prompted, tilting her head slightly to one side.

“Yes. That is, we are no longer doing business with the Empire,” Neva stated firmly, then hastened to add, “And that will continue to be the case whatever your response to our offer may be. That phase of our operations is over, I’m pleased to say, and we will in future be pursuing more...wholesome business relationships.”

Han made a sudden, sharp noise of disgust and Leia felt his agitated energy spike to match his sister’s level of nervousness. The combination of those sensations made Leia’s head spin and her hands tremble. She set her wine glass down atop the broad stone railing and drew a deep breath.

_Maybe reading these two through the Force at the same time is not such a good idea._

“Unbelievable,” Han erupted after a moment’s tense silence, throwing his hands up in an exasperated gesture and then bracing them on his hips as he faced off with Neva. “Since when did the old man start sending his little girl to make his dirty deals for him?”

Neva set her mouth in a thin line and exhaled slowly through her nose as she fixed Han with a stony gaze. “Since his _‘little girl’_ was designated head of the corporation.”

“ _You?_ ” Han’s voice sounded strained and, though the Force, Leia felt his energy sag as if his spirit had been dealt a heavy blow. “You’re just a kid.”

Neva looked irked. “I’m twenty-four!”

“Exactly my point,” Han snapped. When he spoke again, though, his tone was softer; despondent and tinged with grief. “And _you’re_ calling the shots for KDY now?”

Neva visibly struggled to maintain her composure in the face of Han’s obvious dismay. “Mother and Father retain some executive powers, but yes, day-to-day operations, contracts and public relations have been under my jurisdiction for over a year now. I’ve turned things around, Han, and the company's headed in a different direction. The days of hard-line management, putting profits ahead of all else, are behind us. We understand now that we have a responsibility not just to the shareholders, but to everyone, and we have the ability to effect real change.”

Han gaped at her for a moment, then turned his head to look at Leia. His hazel eyes were dark with a sorrow Leia had never seen in him before. She recoiled slightly, feeling overwhelmed with the intensity of emotion that she could sense in him through the Force. Hastily, she withdrew the tenuous contact, deciding to rely instead upon her ordinary senses. Han seemed utterly at a loss for words, but before Leia could take the opportunity to interject, he recovered. Giving himself a visible shake, he looked back at his sister.

“Using your power for good, now, is that it?” Han’s voice was loaded with sarcasm now, and his body was as tense as a coiled wire. “Wise up, Neva. You're a pawn. You think this isn't all part of their plan? Why would they change _now?_ Have you ever stopped to ask yourself that? The only way KDY can stay in the game now is to rewrite the rules. If they truly wanted to be ‘responsible’, they could have told the Imperials what to do with their contracts a long time ago.”

Neva opened her mouth to respond but Han stepped in and jabbed a finger at her. “Face it, Sister. All that scorched terrain was damn good for their bottom line, and they didn’t care who or what got in the way so long as the credits kept pouring in. Only now, they realize that they’re on the losing side; so they trot you out to play damage control, to put an innocent face on all the chaos _they_ helped create. I didn’t buy their shit when I was a kid, and I sure as hell don’t buy it now.”

“I think you’re wrong, Han, and if you’d listen—"

“Are you still _able_ to think for yourself, Neva?” Han interjected with an ugly sneer. “Or have they been more successful at brainwashing you than they were with me?”

Neva pressed her lips together for a moment, obviously fighting for self-control, then continued as if she hadn’t heard that last remark at all. Putting on her best professional air, she turned her gaze back to Leia.

“Your Highness, in addition to having terminated all Imperial contracts, which we did _a year ago,_ ” she emphasized, cutting her eyes back to Han for an instant, “KDY is also pledging support to fund rebuilding efforts for those areas suffering particularly from the...residual effects of Imperial rule. We recognize how our involvement could be seen as culpable, and we wish to make reparations.”

“‘Residual effects’?” Han echoed incredulously. “ _That’s_ how you describe the ruin of hundreds of worlds? With millions dead or used as slaves? _Residual effects?_ Unbelievable.” He took a couple of agitated steps away and then pivoted around to face Neva again. “And you’re damn right KDY is culpable. That’s not up for debate. Everybody knows they’ve been lining their pockets like crazy, even after what happened to—.” He stopped short, cast a lightning-quick glance at Leia and clamped his mouth shut, fuming.

“What would you have us do, Han?” Neva’s voice rose to match her brother’s as she locked eyes with him once more. “Would it be better if we just carried on building ships for the Empire until the bitter end?”

“There is no ‘Empire’, Neva,” Han spat. “The Emperor’s dead. Vader is dead. It’s all over but the mopping up. You can carry on building ships for those bastards if you want to, but there’s hardly anyone left to crew ‘em. We’ve spent the last three years doing our damndest to wipe ‘em all out.”

At that, Neva flinched visibly and covered her mouth with one trembling hand, reaching with the other to set her wine glass down on the railing.

Despite Leia’s earlier withdrawal of her Force sense, she felt a wave of powerful emotions radiating from the young woman through that energy field: anxiety, hurt, and sadness. But overwhelming all of those feelings was a rising tide of fierce anger and indignation.

_So much like her brother._

Leia had remained silent throughout the tense exchange out of respect for both Han and Neva, and because she understood intuitively that any input from an external source would likely be unwelcome. But the intensity of Neva’s emotions was burning through Leia’s attempts to block her, and she knew she had to try to diffuse the situation before that anger ignited and scorched everything in its path. “Han,” she cautioned gently, “stop."

“Why? She got herself into this. She wants to dance with the devil, let’s see her moves.”

Han’s callous remark tipped the scales for Neva. Clenching her fists, she folded her arms tightly and squared off with her brother. Her green eyes blazed with fury. “ _I_ got myself into this, did I? How do you figure that? Because it should have been _you,_ Han,” she hissed.

He narrowed his eyes. “What?”

“It should have been _you,_ to take over the organization. If you hadn’t been so defiant, and obstinate, and… _self-serving,_ ” she sneered, “maybe you could have shifted their focus a long time ago. If you disagreed so much with how they did business, you could have changed it from the inside. At the very least, you could have stayed around long enough to try.”

“Neva,” Leia warned darkly. She didn’t need to tap into the Force to know that the Corellian woman was careening perilously close to the edge of Han’s self-control. Glancing around, she noted that the music had resumed in the adjacent ballroom, and the crowd on the terrace had thinned considerably as the revelers returned to dancing. She’d been so caught up in the tense confrontation playing out in front of her, she’d hardly noticed that the intermission had passed. Fleetingly, she wondered how much longer she could remain on the terrace without someone—Na’Run or one of the other delegates—coming to look for her.

“I’m sorry, Your Highness,” Neva said, keeping her eyes trained on Han’s face and not sounding sorry at all, “but he has no right to judge, not when he walked away.”

“Walked away? I got _shipped off_ to the Imperial Academy to teach me a damned lesson.”

Neva stepped closer to Han, matching his glare with a defiant, upturned face. “Where you continued in your commendable tradition of ignoring the rules, shirking responsibility and doing whatever you damn well pleased, regardless of the consequences. I heard all about it.” Neva pursed her lips and tilted her head, regarding her brother with a look of sisterly disdain. “But back then, you never were good at doing anything that wasn’t squarely in your own best interests, were you? Lucky for everyone you’ve improved in that regard, _General._ "

“Neva!” Leia ordered sharply. “That’s enough!”

Han shot Leia a hard look. “I can handle this, Princess.”

Leia blinked, feeling surprised and then annoyed by his terse rejection of her support. Gathering all of her self-control, she drew a deep breath through her nose and expelled it through pursed lips, reminding herself that Han was suddenly up to his neck in a confrontation he’d avoided for years. He’d been blindsided by the unexpected appearance of his sister and plunged back into a sea of memories he’d done his best to escape. His response to Leia wasn’t the slightest bit personal, she knew, and the last thing he needed was her anger. Swallowing her automatic retort, she folded her arms and resolved to let the siblings hash out their issues without further commentary.

“Our parents _are_ different, now,” Neva continued in a lower voice, and Leia could hear a faint note of entreaty lacing her tone. She, too, seemed to be struggling to contain her sharp tongue, something that was evidently a familial trait. “People _can_ change, Han. Even Arald and Catrin Kuat. And after what happened to Sulvan, they really have—”

“What do you mean?” Han interjected. “What happened to Sulvan?” His suntanned face turned slightly ashen as he stared at his sister. “Wait, why are you here instead of him? Where is he?”

Neva winced at the rapid-fire questions, seeming to realize that she’d inadvertently backed herself into a corner. She drew a breath, then continued with a deep hesitation that put Leia on high alert. “He’s back home, in Doaba Guerfel,” she said carefully. “And yes, there was a time he would have been the one to attend to matters such as this conference but....” Her voice trailed off and she pressed her lips together. “The truth is, he’s just not up to it anymore.”

“Why? What’s wrong with him?”

“Nothing. That is, he’s fine now. Well, better than he was,” she amended. “He suffered some pretty horrific injuries, though, just over a year ago. He lost both legs and his right arm.”

Han made a strangled sound but couldn’t seem to force any words from his throat. Neva continued to deliver the facts, keeping her green eyes fixed steadily on her brother’s face. “He has cybernetic replacements now, of course, but he’s...struggling to recover in other ways….”

Leia glanced at Han. He looked as though he might be ill, and the color had drained from his face entirely. “How?” he managed.

“In the line of duty, just over a year ago.” Though Neva spoke the words in an even tone, Leia could see the tension in her face as she reported the bare facts to her brother. She seemed especially strained when she spoke again through stiff lips. “He was on Hoth when it happened.”

“ _Hoth?_ ” Han’s voice boomed across the terrace, attracting curious stares from nearby guests. “What the _hell_ was he doing on Hoth?”

Calculating the months, Leia realized with a sense of plunging horror that Sulvan Kuat must have been injured while undertaking the attack on Echo Base, the same attack that had driven them towards Bespin, and ultimately delivered Han and herself straight into the waiting snare of Vader himself. Sulvan’s presence on Hoth shouldn’t have come as such a surprise, Leia realized. The Alliance had been—and continued to be—the Empire’s fiercest enemy and by far the biggest threat to its supremacy. As a consequence, the Emperor had thrown considerable resources at the “rebel problem”, so virtually anyone in service to the Empire at that time could have expected to face off with Alliance forces in the assault on Hoth. Sadly, that seemed to extend to Han’s brother, too. She glanced between Han and Neva, feeling anguished for them both as the dreadful news sank in.

Neva squared her jaw and met her brother’s eyes with a look approaching defiance. “He took part in the assault on the Rebel base there. He was aboard one of the first AT-ATs to be deployed on the ground, but he said the Rebels brought them down before they could get close enough to—”

“Stop. Don’t tell me any more.” Han’s eyes were blazing; Leia didn’t need the Force to sense the consuming power of his grief and rage. “He _never wanted that life_ , Neva. He didn’t want to join the Imps any more than I did.”

“Yes. Well, he’s not _like_ you, Han. He never could defy our parents the way you did. They wanted him to go to the Academy, so he went. They wanted him to take up service to the Empire, and he did. And, unlike _you_ , he managed to graduate without blowing anything up or getting himself court-martialed.”

“I don’t want to hear this.”

“He was a commander already by the age of twenty-five—” 

“I said, _I don’t want to hear this!_ ” Han shouted. The din of conversation buzzing around them diminished perceptibly, followed by inquisitive glances and hushed whispers from onlookers. Han continued unabated, unconcerned about appearances or pretense of propriety. “All this, everything that happened to him, and you still think they can ‘make reparations’ and everything’ll be just fine? Arald and Catrin Kuat are responsible for what happened to Sulvan as surely as if they blasted his legs off themselves, Neva. You need to wake up and realize that. And if you keep lettin’ ‘em move you around like a fucking game piece, you’re gonna wind up the same way."

Han’s voice reverberated around the terrace, which had fallen into almost complete silence as he bellowed those last words. Leia became uncomfortably aware of the dozens of eyes trained on the three of them. Although she was reluctant to intervene again, the situation had escalated to the point where she felt she had no choice; even if they were to leave immediately, the galactic gossips would no doubt be agog with the salacious tale of the “love triangle” between Princess Leia, General Solo and one of the heirs to the Kuat Drive Yards fortune. Investigative reporters would no doubt soon discover Han’s real name, and the fallout from _that_ would be even more unpleasant. It was time to put an end to the family reunion, Leia thought. Before she could speak, however, Neva cleared her throat.

“I think we’re done here,” she said stiffly, gazing at her brother with a look of profound sadness.

“I think you’re right,” he snapped. Spinning on his heel, Han made as if to walk away but then seemed to think better of it and turned back to address Leia, his voice gruff. “Princess?”

“I’m coming,” she answered softly. “I’ll meet you in the vestibule.”

He gave a curt nod and turned to stalk away, angrily cutting a path through the gawking guests. Leia turned back to Neva.

“Your Highness, I _am_ sorry,” Neva began.

“Please,” Leia interrupted. “Call me Leia.”

Neva blinked in surprise, as if that was the last thing she’d expected Leia to say. She inclined her head in acknowledgement and then continued, “That’s certainly not how I imagined this evening playing out, Leia. Please accept my apologies.”

Leia offered her a tired smile. “Despite the...less than ideal circumstances, Neva,” she said, “it was a pleasure to meet you.”

Neva extended her hand. “And you as well.”

As Leia clasped the proffered hand, she noticed that the pragmatic facade Neva had tried so desperately to maintain at the outset of this encounter appeared restored, but Leia saw deep sadness and something else— _regret?_ —reflected in her clear green eyes.

“Please...consider our offer,” Neva added earnestly, slipping her fingers into a small pocket concealed in the drape of her dress and withdrawing a tiny data chip, which she extended to Leia. “My contact details, if you should need them. We really do want to help, in any way we can.”

Leia accepted the data chip and nodded, allowing her gaze to linger on the other woman’s face for a moment. “Something tells me you do, Neva,” she agreed.

She had just turned to follow after Han, when she heard Neva’s quiet voice again. “Oh, and...Leia?” she said, nodding in the direction her brother had taken through the crowd. “Tell him I wish things could have been different, and that I….” Struggling to find the words to continue, her voice trailed off and she dropped her head back, pausing for a moment and releasing a heavy sigh before she leveled her gaze back at Leia and continued. “Just tell him I wish him clear skies.”

**-:¦:--:¦:--:¦:-**

**To be continued...**


	6. Redirection

Utterly absorbed in his own dark thoughts, Han exited the hotel turbolift ahead of Leia and set off down the broad corridor towards their room without waiting for her to fall in beside him. His angry stride quickly outstripped her ability to catch up, so she simply followed at her own pace.

Entering the spacious room a few moments later, she found him standing at the table near the open balcony door, pouring himself a generous measure of whiskey from the small decanter supplied by the hotel. Lifting the glass, he took a swallow, then turned his back to the room and leaned one shoulder heavily against the open doorframe. Despite the cool evening breeze that gusted through the gap and ruffled his hair, his body language radiated angry tension. As Leia moved deeper into the luxuriously appointed room, she saw at a glance that he’d already stripped off his uniform jacket and tossed it carelessly onto the bed. In silence, Leia moved over to the dressing table and busied herself for a few moments, removing her jewelry while she watched Han through the oversized gilt mirror fixed to the wall there. As she lifted her hands to remove the delicate ornaments from her elaborately styled hair, she saw him turn on his heel and pace tensely behind her.

He’d hardly spoken a word since leaving his sister on the terrace and it was obvious from his rigid posture and the hard line of his jaw that he was still highly agitated as a result of the encounter. And although his edgy mood permeated the atmosphere between them, Leia knew from experience that it would be unwise to push him at this point. In their early acquaintance, she might have provoked an argument—no, she almost certainly _would_ have provoked an argument—by challenging and confronting him; but she was wiser now and much more certain of him than she’d been back then. A reasoned conversation would be possible when he was calmer, she told herself, and any attempt on her part to force the issue would only result in a spat, which would do neither of them any good.

A growl of frustration from Han made her glance in the mirror again. In his irritated state, he’d paced back to the balcony door once more, but now he turned around to face the room. She saw him scowl down with a look of disgust and then drain what remained of the whiskey in his glass. A flash of sheer rage crossed his face then and, abruptly, he hurled the glass against the far wall. The sound of shattering glass echoed loudly in the confined space, and Leia recoiled in surprise. Taken aback by his sudden outburst, she swiveled on her seat to stare at him. Unleashing a string of Corellian oaths, Han scrubbed his hands over his face, crossed the room and sank to a crouch to begin picking up the remnants of the glass, tossing them piece by piece into the nearby bin. Abruptly he stood, abandoning the remainder, and kicked the nearby closet door closed. The door latch didn’t catch, so he gave it another kick for good measure, his boot leaving a splintering crack in the thin veneer.

Leia crossed her legs, folded her arms, and eyed him warily from her seat in front of the dressing table. “Did any of that help?” she asked in a dry tone.

“Yeah, it did,” he snapped in response. Huffing his frustration, he sat down heavily on the edge of the bed, rested his elbows on his knees, and buried his face in his hands. “Maybe you oughta head back to the party, Leia,” he sighed, his voice muffled. “You’d have a better time there. I’m not gonna be great company for a while."

Leia shook her head, though he wasn’t looking at her and couldn’t see. “No,” she said firmly. “I will not be _dismissed._ ” Hearing the brittle edge in her own voice, she tempered it with lighter words. “Besides, the dance is in full swing now. Who’s going to twirl me around during the _fandolura_ if I go back without you?”

“Well,” he said with more than a hint of sarcasm in his tone, “you could always go back and dance with my sister. You two seemed to hit it off just fine."

Leia cast him an ominous glare and bit back the automatic retort on the tip of her tongue. He was being deliberately harsh, but he was clearly in turmoil and she decided to let it pass.

_One of us has to keep a cool head here. I suppose that’s me._

“Now, that’s not fair, Han,” she said evenly. “I was only trying to be gracious. She is your sister, after all. The last thing the poor girl needed was both of us on the offensive.”

Han let out a defeated breath. “Fine. Suit yourself,” he mumbled.

Ignoring his surly tone, Leia stood up and crossed to the balcony to close the door, then touched the controls to dim the overhead lights, leaving the room softly illuminated. Turning, she edged closer to Han, holding up her hands in supplication. “Listen, Han,” she began, “you’re upset. I’m sorry that you—”

His head snapped up, and his eyes fixed on hers with a look of indignation. “I don’t need anybody feeling _sorry_ for me, Leia. Least of all you.”

Another sharp rejoinder rose to her lips, but once again she opted to leave it unspoken, calling upon all her powers of diplomacy to maintain a placid expression. He really _could_ be a churlish ass when wanted to be, Leia thought ruefully. But she supposed tonight he had good reason.

Undeterred, she approached the bed and settled beside him, the mattress dipping slightly under her weight. She ran her hand lightly across one shoulder, fingers slipping up the back of his neck to stroke his hair, the other hand coming to rest on his thigh. “You’re right, Han,” she conceded. “You don’t need anyone to feel sorry for you. But you _do_ need someone to care about you. And I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere, and I won’t let you push me away." She hoped her firm tone conveyed support, as she intended, and not belligerence.

After a long moment, he raised contrite eyes to hers and heaved a sigh. He covered her hand where it rested on his thigh with one of his own. “I’m the one who’s sorry,” he offered sincerely, and the tension between them seemed to dissipate in an instant. He gave her a faint apologetic smile. “You didn’t deserve any of that."

She kissed him lightly. “I forgive you,” she said, feeling enormously pleased with herself for having navigated the conversation without giving in to her own hot temper—and with Han, for being so... _reasonable._ They really _were_ changing, she thought; both of them individually, but also as a couple—and definitely for the better. The observation filled her with a sense of happy optimism. “Now,” she said in a lighter tone, “would you do something for me?”

“What’s that, Sweetheart?”

“ _Please_ help me out of this dress,” she implored, plucking at the snug bodice with her fingertips. “I’d forgotten just how uncomfortable formalwear can be, and I can’t stand it another second.”

“Sure,” he agreed. He gestured with his head at the shards of glass on the floor. “Let me clean up this mess first.”

As Han moved to tidy up, Leia stood and retrieved his crumpled jacket from the bed, then crossed to the closet to hang the heavy garment with care, gently smoothing the tailored fabric with her hands. He’d looked every bit as handsome in it as she’d imagined he would, and she hoped tonight wouldn’t be the last time she saw him in such finery.

Han emerged from the adjacent fresher, having disposed of the detritus of his outburst and washed his hands. He even seemed to have recovered his relaxed demeanour somewhat. But as he approached her, clearly intending to help her with the fastenings of her dress as promised, Leia could see the shadow of grief and anger pinching the skin around his eyes. She held out a forestalling hand as he drew near, reaching to capture one of his hands in hers.

“Han,” she ventured cautiously, conscious of the treacherous territory she was about to try to cross, “I know you have no interest in communicating with your parents, but clearly you _do_ care about your brother and sister.”

Han stiffened immediately, and she saw the hardening of his jaw. Raising the topic of his family again so soon after he’d reigned in his temper could go either way, Leia figured. He might angrily throw up his hands and storm out of the room, or he might talk to her. Fortunately, after a moment in which she could feel the grip of his fingers tightening ominously around her own, he chose the latter option.

His face twisted in bittersweet acknowledgement of her words and his shoulders dropped marginally lower. He drew a deep breath and relaxed the grip of his hand, turning the tense clutch of his fingers around hers into a brief caress. “Yeah. I guess I do,” he said with a sigh. “And I know they’re not directly responsible for....” His voice trailed off and he gave an uncomfortable shrug of his shoulders. “They didn’t choose the environment they grew up in, any more than I did,” he finished.

Leia turned his hand over in hers and lowered her eyes, using the excuse of unfastening the tiny buttons of his cuff to avoid his direct gaze. “Neva told me how you used to stand up for her when she was little. You were her hero; she idolized you.”

“She was a good kid. Smart, too,” he recalled, his deep voice pitched even lower with fond memory. “And she could charm the tusks off a Murra.” 

Hearing the affection in his tone, Leia looked up and saw a wan smile flicker across his face. 

“She sure could hold her own with us boys, and she could give as good as she got in the arguing department. Though I think you figured _that_ out easily enough.” 

Leia nodded and returned to her task. Having finished one cuff, she reached for the other. “She said you were the most annoying boy on the planet.”

“Nah, I was only one of ‘em. Sulvan was the other, he was just as bad.”

“Tell me about him.”

Han drew another deep breath, then tilted his chin up as Leia, having finished with his cuffs, lifted her hands to unfasten the top button of his dress uniform shirt. “Well, imagine _me,_ only not quite as smart,” he slanted a look down at Leia’s face and smirked, “and about half as gorgeous.”

Leia snorted and rolled her eyes, a combination she reserved for only his most egregious demonstrations of over-inflated ego. She was pleased to see some of his good humor returning, though, and decided to indulge him. “So...he’s still pretty good looking, then?” she quipped and was rewarded with a genuine smile. 

She continued unfastening the buttons of his shirt, taking her time and deliberately dragging the back of her hand against his chest as she worked. She knew instinctively, though he’d never said as much, that her touch was soothing to him, as well as stimulating. The knowledge gave her a feeling of quiet satisfaction, that she had the ability to influence him so powerfully with just a caress and her tender attention.

“He was my best friend,” Han murmured after a moment. Leia saw his throat bobbing as he swallowed. She moved down to the next button and lowered her head, listening. Han’s voice was hoarse. “I mean, growing up, we tried to kill each other on a regular basis, of course. But when it came down to it, I knew I could count on him. He was the only one besides Neva who could understand what it was like to be—.” He bit off his words and drew a weary breath. “To have the mighty Kuats as parents,” he finished.

“He was lucky to have you as a brother,” Leia opined. “Neva, too.” She felt Han stiffen slightly as she worked her way down to the next button.

“No, Sweetheart. He was not lucky.” Something in his voice drew Leia’s gaze back to his face. He looked down at her and she could see the regret in his changeable eyes. “Neva’s absolutely right. I let him down. I let ‘em both down.”

“Han…”

“No, listen. I don’t talk about this much because I don’t like remembering it. _Any_ of it. But I especially don’t like to think about how my decision to cut ties must’ve affected Sul and Neva. I wasn’t worried about that. I didn’t even _think_ of it. I just wanted out. So I got out, and I never looked back.”

Leia gazed up at him and listened in silence, resting her hands lightly on his chest. When he fell quiet, she confided, “Neva told me a little about your parents while you were away getting our drinks. And it sounds to me like it was truly a toxic environment, Han. You were just doing what you had to do, to become who you are now. And who you are now is _good._ ”

He looked at her for a long moment, his hazel gaze turning thoughtful. “How much do you remember from the day we met, Princess?”

Leia resumed her methodical motions, unfastening the remaining few buttons and tugging the hem of his shirt free of his uniform trousers. It was an oddly timed question, she thought, and something they’d never really discussed at length. She remembered every minute of that day; the whole thing was etched in her mind from beginning to end, starting from the moment she’d awoken to find Luke, dressed in stormtrooper armor, standing in the door of her cell. “I remember everything,” she said quietly.

“So you remember what you said to me in the cockpit after we’d cleared the Death Star? After I told you I was only in it for the money?”

Leia blinked and looked up at him.

“Yes, I remember.”

“Well, what you maybe don’t know is just how much of an impact that had on me. _Money_ is all my father ever truly cared about. Money and power, which for him amounted to the same thing. My mother’s just like him. Vain and arrogant and self-centered people, both of them.” He swallowed hard, his hazel eyes scanning her face. “And the day I met you is the day I started to realize I was no different. Even though I’d left Corellia, ditched my family and hit the skies. Even though I believed I’d left it all behind and I was nothing like ‘em. But when you said what you said, it started me thinking. And ultimately, it changed my mind.”

Leia tilted her head slightly, arching one eyebrow.

Han acknowledged her unspoken observation in a sheepish tone. “Yeah, I know,” he acquiesced. “I took the reward and left anyway. I’m a little stubborn sometimes.”

The eyebrow arched a little higher, followed by the slightest twitch of her lips.

“All right, _a lot. _The point is, I was still thinking about what you’d said when I left, and what Luke said to me, too, when me and Chewie were packing up. And I was still thinking about all of that when I turned the _Falcon_ around and headed back to Yavin.”__

__Leia allowed her gaze to linger on his, absorbing the information and savoring the insight. This was turning into an evening of unexpected, but very welcome, revelations. “So…,” she said at length, giving him a teasing smile, “in a roundabout way, your parents are responsible for everything that came after that? Including this,” she gestured between them. “ _Us._ ”_ _

__“Uh, no, I wouldn’t go that far,” Han warned. “I worked my ass off to make this happen.” He motioned between them in an echo of Leia’s own gesture. “ _This_ was all me.”_ _

__Leia gave him a little shove and fixed him with an irked glare._ _

__“Oh, well, yeah. And you, too, Princess. Obviously.”_ _

__Mollified, Leia gave him a faint smile as she slipped her hands through the gap in his open shirt and touched the skin of his abdomen. She felt his hard muscles tighten in response and gave him a coy look from under her lashes. Running her hands up his chest to his shoulders, she pushed the fabric of his shirt away and then slowly, with his shrugging help, stripped the sleeves from his arms and tossed the shirt over the nearby dressing table chair. When he was bare-chested before her, she stretched up on tiptoe, using his shoulders for balance, to give him a lingering kiss, full of promise. He responded with alacrity, sliding his hands around the curve of her waist and pulling her gently against him. Leia broke the kiss after a moment and, meeting his eyes with a faint smile, ran her hands back down his chest and abdomen, then turned her attention to unfastening his belt. She lingered over the task, deliberately brushing the taut skin of his belly with her knuckles as she manipulated the old-fashioned buckle of his dress uniform. She was aware of his weighty gaze, and her keenly attuned senses detected the change in his breathing as she worked._ _

__Now that she had his full attention, she decided to venture a little further out onto the thin ice she’d begun treading upon earlier in their conversation. This step, she knew, would require great care, so she started with the most important point. “I would never suggest that you should forgive your parents, forget about what they’ve done or ignore their culpability.” Lifting her eyes, she was ready for Han’s hard gaze when it snapped back to her face. She silently willed him to let her continue. “I am well aware that sometimes the deeds of a biological parent are simply...unforgivable.” She watched him digest that comment in silence, encouraged by the fact he hadn’t tried to move away or interrupt. “Not that I’m comparing your parents to Darth Vader, of course. They weren’t quite as bad as that, I hope?”_ _

__A wave of strange emotion crossed his features then, and he shook his head. “No,” he rasped. “Not quite as bad as that.”_ _

__Leia nodded, continuing to divest him of his belt through a deliberately slow process of passing the leather strap through one loop at a time, reaching around him to complete the task._ _

__“If you think about it, their decision to do business with the Empire simply made good sense at the time of Palpatine’s rise,” Leia stated coolly. “It’s easy to understand why any galactic organization such as KDY Industries would see backing the Empire as the prudent thing to do, at least at first. It’s much more difficult to understand why they persisted, though, once it became clear the extent of the atrocities being perpetrated by Imperial forces. And they are, as you said to Neva, culpable for many deaths and much suffering throughout the galaxy, without a doubt. So,” she pulled the end of the belt strap free and folded the length of leather between her hands as she met Han’s gaze once more. “I cannot and would not suggest that you should forgive your parents, any more than I can forgive Vader. You _know_ I understand that.”_ _

__Han nodded, holding her gaze. “Yeah. I know.”_ _

__“But this is the chance we’ve been waiting for, Han,” she said, coming to the point at last. “Kuat Drive Yards would be a powerful corporate ally for us, especially now when we’re so close to bringing this war to an end. You know the limitations we’re working with right now.”_ _

__Han sighed, reaching to take the belt from her hands, then leaned to drape it over the back of the chair atop his discarded shirt. Turning back, he moved past her to sit down on the bed, and began pulling off his boots. “Yeah, Princess. I know. Neva’s proposal makes sense for us strategically, even if it is self-serving for the Kuats. I get that. Better late than never, huh?”_ _

__“Exactly,” Leia affirmed, crossing to sit beside him. She placed one hand on his bare back, watching as he stripped off his socks and tossed them carelessly on the carpeted floor. “And their apparent termination of Imperial contracts after Hoth must be one of the reasons why the Empire’s fleet is down to three Super Star Destroyers now. We knew they weren’t being resupplied as handily as they were before; now we know why.” Absentmindedly, she stroked the muscles of his back. When she spoke again, she could hear the note of wonder in her own voice. “The tide really _has_ turned and we _are_ going to win this war, Han. And if what Neva says is true, it seems Kuat Drive Yards has been instrumental in that.”_ _

__“ _If_ what she says is true,” Han said darkly, turning his head to look at her. “I’m not convinced she’s not just acting as a mouthpiece for dear old Dad. He likes to use people like that. Plus, she’s young, and she’s been under his influence all this time. Say whatever you want about him, but he was always savvy. And he’s sharp enough to know when to cut his losses and shift his bets.”_ _

__“Well, _I’m_ convinced that Neva is sincere. I get that it’s hard for you to understand how I can be so certain, but...I can _feel_ it.” She waited for the expected ripple of skepticism to cross his face, but he simply sighed and gave a resigned shake of his head, then leaned back on his hands and looked at her, waiting for her to continue. Encouraged, she drew one leg up beneath her and shifted on the bed so that she could face him. “And if KDY Industries is ready to fully back the New Republic, to help us rebuild our fleet while making it difficult for the Empire to recover from their losses, then I think we should welcome that gesture, even if it has arrived a bit late. It would be a crippling blow for the Imperial remnant, and we’re in a position to make it happen.”_ _

__“So what you’re saying is...you want to cut a deal with them.”_ _

__“No. I’m saying we _need_ to. This is our opportunity, Han; we have to take it. If there was ever a pivotal moment to shift the balance permanently in our favour, this is it.”_ _

__“Are you using a Jedi mind trick on me, Sweetheart?” He narrowed his eyes in suspicion, but she could see the beginnings of a smirk at the corner of his mouth. “Must be, because I’m starting to see your point.”_ _

__A ghost of a smile crossed her face. “Me? Of course not. If I were going to manipulate your mind, I can think of other, more personal, gains.”_ _

__Han nodded, but he was too preoccupied with his own thoughts to respond to her suggestive quip. Straightening up, he shifted on the bed to face her. “If this goes ahead—assuming you’re gonna pursue it—then I don’t want to get involved in negotiations, or have anything to do with the process.”_ _

__“I understand completely. But—”_ _

__“Every time you say ‘but’, I end up doin’ something I don’t wanna do,” he interjected in a dry tone._ _

__“ _But_ I just think that this is an opportunity for _you,_ as well, regardless of the outcome of any business transactions,” she explained. She reached for his hands with both of her own. “I see how much you care about your sister, Han, and from what you’ve said about your brother, well…” She gave his hands a light squeeze. “Wonderful things can come out of even the most desperate times. You and I are proof of that. And, despite the evil monster that Vader was, something good _did_ come from him, as well. He gave me a tremendous gift that I wouldn’t trade for anything.”_ _

__“Luke.”_ _

__“Luke,” she echoed. “There’s an old Alderaani saying, Han: ‘Do not let the shadows of your past eclipse the brightness of your future’. I’m not naive enough to think you can simply pick up where you left off, but you _can_ move forward. There are no guarantees that if you reconnect with Sulvan and Neva you’ll be fast friends, but wouldn’t it be nice if one positive thing from your childhood could be restored?”_ _

__Han considered her words for a long while, absently rubbing his thumbs over her knuckles as he drifted in thought. Finally, he let out a heavy breath and met her eyes. “I have zero interest in speaking to my parents again. That’s not gonna happen,” he said flatly. “And I still don’t want to have anything to do with the business aspects. But...tomorrow, go find Neva,” he conceded. “Talk to her, work something out. The rest...we’ll see.” Releasing one of her hands, he raised a warning finger. “I’m not sayin’ I’m gonna be able to make it work, you understand. But I’ll try.”_ _

__Leia’s wide smile could scarcely express the jangle of emotions that coursed through her. No single word could quite capture the depth of what she was feeling: optimism, for a chance to accelerate the end of the war they’d fought for so long; and hope, for a future she’d once felt certain would never actually come to pass. Interwoven through those feelings, though, were threads of elation, adoration, pride—and a healthy measure of astonishment—for the man at her side._ _

___You were right, Neva,_ she thought. _People can change...and they never fail to take you by surprise when they do.__ _

__Han regarded her jovial countenance with curiosity, and returned a half-smile of his own. “What are you lookin’ at?”_ _

__“ _You,_ ” she said. “If I didn’t know any better, Han Solo, I’d say you’re at risk of becoming a _rational human being._ ”_ _

__“Rational, I don’t mind,” he said lazily. Reaching over, he stroked her cheek with his palm and grazed his thumb over her lower lip. “I just don’t ever want to be too _respectable._ ”_ _

__“Then we’ll just have to do everything in our power to make sure that doesn’t happen,” she smiled._ _

__He leaned over and captured her mouth in a lingering kiss, gentle, but ripe with promise. Leia felt a tingle of anticipation flutter in the pit of her stomach and she responded eagerly, parting her lips to admit the teasing tip of his tongue. She dropped her hands down between them to the fastening of his trousers, but Han halted her efforts and fixed her with a sly grin._ _

__“Wait a minute, Princess,” he drawled, casting his eyes over her figure. “Why am I the only one sittin’ here half-dressed? I thought you said you wanted out of those fancy clothes.”_ _

__“I do. Desperately.”_ _

__“Well, then, stand up and turn around. I’ve got some catching up to do.”__

 _ _ **-:¦:--:¦:--:¦:-**__

 _ _ **To be continued...**__


	7. Reflection

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rated 'Mature' for good reason...

-:¦:--:¦:--:¦:-

Han’s nimble fingers found the tab of the concealed fastener at the nape of her neck and drew it slowly down the length of her spine, his knuckle just grazing her skin as his hand moved down her back. Leia shivered in anticipation. Being undressed by Han was one of her greatest secret pleasures—whether he took his time and kissed every centimeter of her skin as he unwrapped her, or tugged and pulled impatiently at her clothes until she was bare for him, it didn’t matter; it was always good. But she was especially looking forward to this occasion, because she’d suddenly remembered what she was wearing beneath her dress.

Turning around to face him, she shrugged the heavy fabric from her shoulders, then gingerly pulled her arms back through the intricately patterned sleeves. Watching his face, she allowed the top of the dress to fall to her hips, then smiled as she saw Han’s mouth drop open and his eyes widen in undisguised admiration.

“What the—? Where’d you—? Oh, Sweetheart,” he breathed reverently. “ _Wow._ ”

The bra she wore was as far removed from her usual ill-fitting, standard issue Alliance grey as it was possible to be. Fashioned from pale Dramassian silk, it was so sheer it barely disguised the flesh beneath, and yet somehow enhanced and glorified it. The demi-cups, edged with delicate embroidery in the same light shade, curved under her breasts and lifted them, leaving the upper hemispheres daringly bare. Leia had been pleased with the indulgent purchase for her own sake—it had been years since she’d worn anything even remotely as pretty as this under her clothes—but Han’s inarticulate, gaping reaction made her feel even better about her selection. She’d picked it up on impulse, along with a pair of panties fashioned from the same silken material, from the small boutique in Hanna City where she’d purchased her formal dresses. And although at the time she’d had no idea when she might have the opportunity to model it for Han’s eyes, she’d certainly had him in mind when she’d selected the garments.

Wondering what his reaction would be when he saw the whole ensemble, Leia shimmied the rest of the material down over her hips and then, holding onto Han’s arm for balance, stepped out of the skirt. Han caught the dress in one hand before it could fall away, but he allowed the heavy material to trail from his fingertips to the floor, momentarily forgotten as he stared at her. His heated gaze travelled up and down her revealed form, hungrily taking in every centimeter of her figure, which was clad now only in high heels and lingerie.

“You are _never_ wearing any of that Alliance stuff, ever again,” Han said vehemently, meeting her gaze with absolute conviction in his eyes. “Just so you know.”

Leia laughed lightly, feeling a blush of pleasure suffusing her skin. “Well, I wouldn’t argue with you about that, but this is all I have. I was in a hurry when I bought it, and didn’t have much time to browse,” she explained. “So I’m afraid it’s back to basics tomorrow.”

“Like hell it is,” Han told her, allowing her to take the dress from his slack fingers, then bracing his hands on his hips and giving her another appreciative look up and down.

Reaching for a hanger, Leia smiled at Han’s response. She understood the sentiment, but she wasn’t eager to go shopping again anytime soon. Even the very brief expedition into Hanna City had left her feeling uneasy and exposed, though she’d taken the precaution of disguising her appearance. After so many years of living as a fugitive with an Imperial bounty on her head, it had felt exceedingly strange to simply stroll into a shop on a planet in the Core to do something as ordinary and mundane as picking out new clothes. She supposed it was just another sign of the seismic shifts following their victory at Endor that would soon be felt in every aspect of her life. She hung the golden dress with care and then replaced it in the closet before turning back to face Han. He was eyeing her speculatively, rubbing his hand across his jaw and narrowing his eyes as he seemed to study her scantily clad figure with careful attention.

“Yeah,” he mused aloud. “I think I’ll skip all those boring meetings in the morning, and take a little trip down to mid-city,” he informed her. “I’ll just need to, uh, _take your measurements_ first.”

She smiled in amusement, feeling a pleasant jolt at the thought of Han shopping for lingerie with her in mind. She pictured him in his usual attire with his blaster strapped to his thigh, wandering through feminine boutiques, fingering scraps of silk and lace while imagining her parading around in them. The idea was thrilling and strange. She had a fleeting recollection of some of the more daring items she’d glimpsed during her brief visit to the shop on Chandrila, and wondered if Han would ever select something like that for her. Or perhaps, she thought, she should buy it for herself. If he reacted so strongly to what she was wearing now, she could only imagine what he’d be like if she were to meet him one evening wearing little more than strategically placed straps and ribbons. Intuition—and her understanding of how Han’s mind worked—told her that he would greet such a move with great enthusiasm. But she was still finding her feet in this strange new world of deliberate seduction, and the thought of displaying herself in such provocative gear still had the power to make her blush.

Watching his face as he continued to scan her body, she saw the moment when he decided to shift from entranced observer to active participant. Reaching for her, he slipped his hands around her waist and pulled her close, then skimmed both hands lightly up her curves, from hipbones to ribcage and back again, before bringing one hand up to cup her breast, his expression utterly rapt. His palm was warm through the thin material and the experimental brush of his thumb across her nipple brought it to a stiff peak that Leia, looking down, could see easily through the sheer fabric. Han’s eyes were also fixed on the rapid transformation of her flesh, and she felt his breathing change. Lowering his lips to her body, he trailed feather-light caresses across the upper swell of bare skin, then dragged his mouth lower to briefly envelop her dark nipple through the thin silk.

“So,” Leia gasped, already knowing the answer, “you like it, then?” She twined the fingers of one hand through his thick hair, holding on to his bare shoulder with the other as he continued to nuzzle her flesh.

“Mmm,” he murmured with his eyes half-shut, lips intent on traversing every millimeter of the delicate skin of her breast where it swelled from the edge of the soft fabric. “It’s beautiful. _You’re_ beautiful.” As he spoke, he shifted his grip on her and dragged his lips across to her other breast, giving it the same tender attention as he had the first. Leia closed her eyes and gave herself up to the pleasure of his sensuous lips, warm and soft, adoring her body. His strong arms slipped around her, pressing her closer to him as his mouth continued exploring the novel terrain. Leia leaned back slightly to give him better access, and he took that as license to move lower still, leaving her breasts to inch kisses down the center of her abdomen. The sensation made Leia dizzy with pleasure and it only intensified when she felt the grip of his hands shift down to her hips as he descended.

“Han,” Leia’s fingers clutched at his hair. “I want….” She wanted to kiss him, wanted to feel that sensuous mouth covering hers, to taste him again, to drink him in. She couldn’t articulate any of those thoughts, though and, in any case, Han had other ideas.

He glanced up at her with an open-mouthed, glazed expression before returning to his task. “I’m not done here,” he responded, his words muffled against her flesh as he continued working his way down her body, sinking into a crouch in front of her as he kissed his way down to her belly, then finally to the scrap of silk and lace covering her sex. He dropped to one knee on the carpeted floor, his warm hands holding her by the hips to keep her steady as he lingered for a moment, blazing a trail from hipbone to hipbone with his lips.

“Oh,” she breathed when he dropped slightly lower and she felt his hot breath gusting between her legs, then, “Yes,” as he pressed a kiss against her soft flesh through the thin fabric. She arched against him and he grunted, pressing his mouth harder against her body. She felt the light scrape of his teeth against the fabric, a vibration that made her shiver, then incredible warmth as he pressed the flat of his tongue against the silk. “Oh....”

Dazed and swaying, Leia clutched at his shoulders for balance as she felt her knees buckle. Her eyes fluttered open then and she caught a glimpse of movement out of the corner of her eye. Glancing over, she saw herself and Han in profile, reflected in the large, ornate mirror there. The image shocked her. Her eyes widened and she blinked rapidly, taking in the sight of Han, barefoot and bare-chested, crouched before her on one knee, with his muscular arms wrapped around her thighs and hips, and his face buried between her legs. Something deep in her core fluttered wildly at the erotic sight. She couldn’t remember ever seeing the two of them reflected in a mirror together—at least, not like this. They’d scarcely had any time together at all since Endor, bare handfuls of days in which to reconnect and enjoy each other’s company, and most of that private time had been spent aboard the _Falcon_ , holed up in the bunkroom, far away from prying eyes. Certainly, none of those encounters had offered her the opportunity to watch as they made love. Leia stared, transfixed and thrilled, her hands resting lightly in his hair as Han continued to nuzzle and kiss between her thighs.

Seeing them in reflection was a strange experience, as if she were hovering outside her body or watching a romantic scene from a holodrama. She stared. This was _Han Solo_ at her feet; the cocky, irreverent, blaster-wielding scoundrel who had somehow crossed the line from tormenter and near-adversary, to become her closest friend and protector, jeering and leering at her all the while. He was easily the most irritating, provocative, exasperating and exciting man she’d ever known—those things, she suspected, would never change. But as she looked at the reflection of them together, watching as he venerated her with his body, she suddenly understood—on a deeper level than ever before—that he was absolutely, unreservedly _hers._

She must have made some sound then because he looked up at her, and then followed her gaze to the nearby mirror. She met his eyes in the reflection there and saw the spark of understanding and inspiration flare in his expression. Grinning, he straightened up to his full height and turned her by the shoulders to face the glass. Startled and disconcerted by his actions, Leia tried to turn away, suddenly feeling acutely self-conscious, but he held her firmly, then nestled up behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist and nudging her head to one side with his own.

“Look at us, Leia,” he murmured, pressing his mouth against her ear.

Leia looked, and felt another wave of excitement ripple through her body as she took in the sight of them together. She’d never seen them like this; never seen herself like this.

 _I’m so small,_ she thought incongruously, staring at her reflection.

She didn’t _think_ of herself as particularly small, although she recognized that her diminutive height was considerably less than average for a human woman. But seeing herself nearly nude and wrapped in Han’s embrace, she was struck by the difference in their sizes. He engulfed her, his lean, muscular, suntanned body a striking contrast to the pale contours of her feminine figure. She was fit and trim, but he was something else altogether; overwhelmingly masculine and powerful.

_And mine._

As that primitive thought lanced through her mind, Han’s hands began roaming over her body at a languid pace, stroking the skin of her lower belly with one hand while possessively fondling one silk-clad breast with the other. Leia lifted her eyes to meet Han’s lustful gaze in the mirror and she felt a peculiar jolt. It was one thing to feel his hands caressing her, tantalizing her and making her moan—it was quite another to watch him do it. The combination was overpowering and she closed her eyes, concentrating on the sensations he was creating as he lowered his head to plant open-mouthed kisses on the side of her neck, and slid his warm hands all around her curves in a hypnotic rhythm. With her eyes closed, she could focus on the press of his powerful body behind her and the effect she could feel she was having on him.

“ _Tia bel,_ ” Han rumbled in her ear, and Leia’s eyes fluttered at the sound of his native tongue. He very seldom spoke in Corellian, but on the rare occasions when she heard the melodic words fall from his lips, they were always in the throes of passion. Smiling because she’d understood that particular phrase, she opened her eyes, but then caught sight of herself in the mirror again and felt another jolt. Automatically, she tried to turn in the circle of his arms, to look away from the starkly erotic sight of Han’s sun-bronzed hands gripping her pale flesh, but he stopped her again with a gentle touch. Still embracing her loosely from behind, he lifted a hand around to cup her opposite cheek and, craning his head down, brought her lips up to his for a lingering kiss.

“Watch, Leia,” he entreated quietly, drawing back to meet her gaze. Leia stared up into his hazel eyes and felt a thrill at the intensity of desire she could see there. He leaned in again, nuzzling her jaw line and peppering her skin with soft kisses. His deep voice reverberated in her ear. “Watch me touch you.”

“Han…” she began, feeling a flutter of nervousness at his request, “I don’t think—”

“Don’t think,” he interjected. “Watch.” 

Turning her face back towards their reflection, she met his gaze in the mirror and gave him a dazed nod of acquiescence, though she couldn’t stop the nervous biting of her lower lip. She tried to keep her eyes trained on his hands as they swarmed over her curves, but she felt dizzy with the sight and sensation, and she couldn’t help her own breathless response as she moved her body against his, craving the stimulation of his touch. Her addled mind flickered with half-formed thoughts, scraps of nonsensical observations and remnants of her old life on Alderaan, of the person she’d been before. Staring at her reflection in the mirror, she hardly recognized herself, fairly swooning with lust and pleasure as Han manipulated her writhing body.

 _This is who I am,_ she thought wildly. _This is the real me. And he’s the only one who knows._

Han slowed his touch then and moved back slightly to slide his hands up the arc of her back. Leia shivered with pleasure as he moved slowly, deliberately upwards. His hands curved over her shoulders, then his thumbs stroked lightly up the length of her neck, before he reached up to her braided hair. Although he’d never said as much, he seemed to love deconstructing her elaborate creations, and he’d become an expert at promptly locating the pins that held them in place. She watched as he made quick work of dismantling the elegant corona she’d chosen, carelessly allowing the pins to drop to the floor. His nimble fingers swiftly unraveled the braids and then his movements slowed as he gently combed his fingers through the heavy silken strands. When it was loose and cascading down her back, he took a moment to bury his face in it, inhaling her scent. Then, gathering the mass in one hand, he pushed it to the side so that it spilled over one shoulder, and leaned down to nuzzle the sensitive spot behind her opposite ear. She sighed and reached back to stroke his hair, encouraging the movement of his lips in a wandering path down her neck and across the curve of her shoulder.

“ _Ovservi mi palpo valle,_ Leia,” he murmured, his deep baritone sending shivers down her spine. His hands dropped to her waist, and the heat of his palms stroking slowly against her skin made her sigh again. “ _Valle bey tia bel._ ”

Leia had no idea what he was saying to her now, nor did it matter. She was spellbound by the rumble of his deep voice, the delectable friction of his hands around the curve of her waist, and the enticing press of him hard against her back. She watched their reflection through half-lidded eyes as his hands slipped up to caress her breasts again, cupping them and rubbing synchronized thumbs over the tips, stoking the smoldering fire of longing in her core. The intoxicating physical sensations were heightened by the sight of her nipples stiffening again under the sheer fabric.

“So beautiful, Sweetheart,” he whispered again, this time in a language she understood clearly. “And you’re _mine._ ”

His possessive words echoed Leia’s own thoughts and sent another shiver of pleasure coursing through her body. Before Han, she’d never imagined _belonging_ to anyone at all, never mind _wanting_ to, or giving herself so completely and unreservedly to another person that she could lose all sense of time and place. In more lucid moments, she sometimes tried to understand how they’d managed to travel the distance from where they’d begun—sniping and griping at each other, driving each other to distraction—to this place of deep intimacy and trust. But the convoluted route they’d taken didn’t matter. All that mattered was that she had complete faith in him now. He was the only man she would ever allow to touch her like this, to see her so completely unguarded and so honestly _herself._ He was hers. And she was his.

“You feel so good, Leia.” Han’s voice was a subterranean growl that made Leia’s skin prickle with pleasure. She closed her eyes as he began another slow manual circuit of her curves, only this time one of his caressing hands moved lower, down over her hip bone and lower still, sliding between her legs to cup her in his palm, warming the thin layer of silk there. She heard his grunt of approval in her ear as she responded with a primal nudge of her bottom against his groin. 

“Look,” he entreated softly. “Watch what I’m doing to you.”

Leia opened glassy eyes and watched as Han slid one finger under the sheer fabric, pulling it gently away from the curls trapped there before nudging the flat of his hand underneath. The sight of his hand moving under the pale silk and disappearing between her legs made Leia’s core muscles tighten and her eyes roll. She moaned and dropped her head back against his shoulder, clutching at his arm and closing her eyes again to concentrate on the rush of sensations he was causing with his touch.

A warm rush of breath against her cheek and the whisper of her name caused her eyes to flicker open once more. Glancing back to the mirror, she was met with a sultry vision that inflamed her senses with a new, unexpected surge of ecstasy. His hazel eyes darkened with lust, Han held her reflected gaze for a brief moment before his sensuous lips resumed their scorching trail from her shoulder to the curve of her jaw, his hands never ceasing their relentless movements. She drank in the sight of his dark head bent over the pale curve of her shoulder, one hand stroking the fullness of her breast, teasing and rolling the nipple through the thin silk, the other moving under the pale fabric in gentle exploration at the apex of her thighs. The sight was powerfully erotic, and she found herself captivated by the image of his hands in motion, matching the exquisite sensations they elicited in her body. The sight, the intense heat of his body, and the feeling of his mouth and his hands were overwhelming. She slowly began to rock her hips against him in an unconscious rhythm, and her hand slid down between her thighs to cover his as she writhed against the warm press of his fingers. When her legs began to tremble, she leaned into him and lost herself in the building intensity of her desire.

Distantly, she heard Han’s gratified chuckle reverberating in her ear. “We’d better move this to the bed, Sweetheart. I’m going weak in the knees.”

Leia didn’t have breath in her body or a thought in her head with which to reply. Mutely, as if in a daze, she allowed him to lead her by the hand to the edge of the oversized bed, then paused to slip out of her heels as he divested himself of his remaining clothes. She was trembling all over, she realized, every nerve ending alight with the lingering pleasure of his touch and the stimulating memory of seeing them writhe together in the mirror’s reflection. Given a moment’s respite, she drew a deep breath and released it slowly, marveling at the intensity of sensation he could induce in her. Watching as he finished stripping off his uniform trousers and grey boxer briefs—standard issue Alliance underwear, if Leia’s guess was correct—she was overcome with a craving for more. She moved in close before he’d fully straightened up again, sliding her arms around his neck and pressing herself against his bare torso unabashedly. He warmly welcomed her embrace and tightened his arms around her, half-lifting her to her tiptoes as his mouth descended upon hers for a molten kiss.

When he loosened his arms, she drew away slightly and then slipped a hand down between them to wrap her fingers around the hard length of him, skimming over his skin with a teasing, delicate touch. She smiled with satisfaction as she heard the hissing intake of his breath and felt the grip of his hands tightening on her body. Empowered by the visceral thrill that coursed through her at his reaction, she applied a bolder touch, stroking him with her fingertips, following the contours of rigid flesh and bulging veins, and enjoying the weighty feeling of him twitching in response. As she closed her hand around him completely and gave him a series of firm, gentle strokes, she was rewarded with a guttural growl of pleasure and the clench of his hands on her hips. He pulled her with him as he sank down onto the bed, then hitched further backwards, drawing her up to join him. 

Releasing her loose hold, she planted one knee on the mattress beside him and climbed up to settle astride his hips, then reached up to gather her hair out of the way. Han evidently liked her hair down and, despite the impracticalities of it, dismantling her hairstyle was always one of the first things he did when they were alone. Impatiently, she gathered the heavy mass into a loose twist and drew it over one shoulder, looking down to meet Han’s smoldering gaze. She then reached between her breasts for the clasp of her bra, but was surprised when Han reached up to stop her, covering her hands with one of his.

“Leave it on,” he murmured. His gaze dropped back to her silk-clad breasts; he was apparently still fascinated by the novel appearance of her wearing something other than baggy, dull, dishwater-grey. He reached up to skim his palms over her abdomen and ribcage, then cradled the soft weight of her breasts in his hands, teasing the sensitive tips through the delicate fabric with agonizingly slow circular movements of his thumbs.

“You know,” he said in a thoughtful tone, tilting his head against the mattress, “I have a feeling I’m about to blow my entire upgrade budget for the _Falcon_ on sexy lingerie for you.”

Leia scoffed, but couldn’t hide a pleased smile. “Sure. You’d rather see me in a leather corset than buy a new sensor array? I don’t think so.”

Han made a slightly choked sound, and his mouth dropped open in exaggerated shock. “ _Leather corset?_ ” His handsome face broke into a broad grin. “I like the sound of that.”

Leia gave him a playful swat and rolled her eyes. “Sounds like it would be too hot.”

“Oh, it would be hot, alright.” As he spoke, he curved his hands around her shoulders and drew her down. Leia splayed her hands on the bed to either side of his head as she leaned down to meet his offered kiss. The touch of his lips was soft at first, tantalizing and provocative, the barest whisper of contact. Drawing back slightly, she met his gaze for a wordless moment before dropping to her forearms, descending upon him and capturing his mouth with gentle fervor. She dipped her tongue between his parted lips, a thrum of exhilaration coursing through her as she felt him yield, allowing her to set the rhythm and pace, his fingertips grazing feather-light across the smooth contours of her back.

Stretched along Han’s torso with her legs doubled up along his sides, Leia was acutely aware of how powerfully their lingering kiss was affecting him. With nothing but a scrap of silk between their bodies, she could feel the enticing length of him pressing hard against her center, and the slightest shift in position sent electric pulses straight to her core. The sensation was too exquisite to resist and she found herself making small, deliberate movements against him as she kissed him, delighting in his soft groans of pleasure. Reducing Han to breathless incoherence was still a novel experience for Leia but one she relished, and she took full advantage, sliding her tongue over his in slow exploration, deepening the intensity with every languid stroke.

He broke the kiss at last, his eyes glazed with lust, but with a glint of purpose shining there. “Look in the mirror, Leia,” he rasped.

She blinked, disconcerted by the unexpected command. She straightened up, using her fingertips splayed on his chest for balance. “What?”

He cut his eyes to the end of the bed. “Look at us.”

Turning her head, Leia caught sight of her reflection and felt her pulse trip into overdrive. She looked utterly wild, straddled atop Han’s bare, brown body, with her hair cascading loose against her pale skin. The recessed lights that dimly illuminated the room cast a faint glow over the scene, shadowing her dark eyes and swollen lips. As she stared, she both felt and saw Han move beneath her, shifting her bodily onto the mattress beside him before turning to settle down on his knees in the center, facing the mirror. 

“C’mere,” he invited, his voice hoarse. He gestured to Leia to move back into the circle of his arms.

Leia hesitated, bridled by her own uncertainty. She was fairly sure she knew what he had in mind now, but she wasn't certain if she was fully prepared for such an adventurous foray. Her overloaded senses felt only scarcely recovered from having watched them writhing together in reflection a few moments earlier. The idea of taking the next step in that direction filled her with a fluttering sense of nervous excitement. But the way he was looking at her, with love and desire, and just a hint of playful sparkle glinting in his eyes, allayed her misgivings. She turned as he directed her, positioning herself with her back to him, on her knees between his thighs. He moved in close, enveloping her again in an embrace that used his entire body: arms, legs and torso. As he pressed up against her, she could feel his straining erection jutting hard against her lower back, and she reveled in the feeling of power it gave her, knowing she could affect him as strongly as he affected her.

“Right there, that’s perfect,” he murmured, tightening his arms around her. “Now look.”

She raised nervous eyes and caught sight of their reflection once more. This time she felt less shocked and more captivated by what she saw, as she took note of the deep flush she could see spreading across the skin of her belly and breasts, and up to her throat. Her cheeks were flushed pink, too, and her long hair was in complete disarray. The slight contrast of the sheer lingerie against her skin seemed to make her glow like a candle in the soft ambient lighting of the room. She looked as far removed from her usual pinned-down, composed and uniformed self as it was possible to look. Han swept her hair forward across one shoulder and bent to kiss the graceful curve of her neck.

“I think you like to watch,” he murmured into her ear. When she didn’t respond, he straightened and met her gaze in the mirror’s reflection. “Don’t you, Leia?”

Breathless, she simply stared at his reflection for a moment before glancing away to hide a shy smile. She felt intensely self-conscious again and—irrationally, she knew—too embarrassed to answer aloud. There was no point in denying it, though. Han could read her almost as easily as she could read him these days, and he didn’t need to use the Force to know what excited her. Drawing her lower lip between her teeth, she met his gaze again and simply nodded.

She saw a flash of white teeth as he gave her a genuine, eye-crinkling grin. He dipped his head down beside hers again and pressed his mouth to her ear. “I like to watch, too.”

His rumbling confession sent a shiver racing down her spine and out to every limb. She reached for his hands, wordlessly directing him to touch her the way he’d touched her before. He obeyed without question, sliding one arm around to brace her upper body, his hand cupped warmly under one breast, while the other hand snaked down her belly to slip between her legs. Leia tipped her head to one side to give his mouth access to the skin of her neck and shoulder, and gave herself up to sensation once more. She was already in such an libidinous state that it took only a few moments in his arms before she was mindlessly moving against him again, covering his hands with her own, guiding his touch. All the while, she watched through half-lidded eyes as he caressed and stroked her into a gasping frenzy.

After a few moments, Han withdrew his arms from around her body and leaned back to grip her by the shoulders before sliding his hands down the arc of her back. As he lowered his mouth to her skin and began kissing his way down the angular plane of her shoulder blade, he caught her eye in the mirror once more and gave her a lascivious grin so blatantly carnal it shot straight to her core.

“ _Ovservi,_ Leia,” he murmured as his dark head dipped below the level of her shoulder. “ _Ovservi mi atori via korpo, min larel._ ”

Breathless and trembling with anticipation, Leia watched.

-:¦:--:¦:--:¦:- -:¦:--:¦:--:¦:-

Observing as Leia pulled a thin grey sleep shift from her case and slipped it on over her head, Han gave a long-suffering sigh. “So, my shopping list for tomorrow now also includes new nightgowns,” Han remarked dryly. “ _That thing_ is older than Chewie.”

Leia rolled her eyes and climbed back into bed beside him, wriggling under his welcoming arm and coming to rest with her head on his shoulder. “What else is on this list of yours?” she asked, winding a leg over one of his and nestling in tight.

“Let’s see,” he began, counting off on the fingers of his free hand. “More of that silk, I think. It comes in colors, right? You’ll need a few of those,” he mused. “A leather corset for sure, plus a pair of those thigh-high stockings to go with it. And a mirror for the bulkhead above our bunk.”

Leia gave him a jab to the ribs with two fingers. “Think again, Hotshot.”

“ _Ow!_ What? Why not? I bet you’d look _fantastic_ in those stockings.”

She tried to jab him again for being deliberately obtuse, but he blocked her easily this time, laughing at her peeved expression. His chuckle subsided after a moment and he said, “What’s wrong with having a mirror above the bunk?”

Leia craned her head up and fixed him with a withering glare. “What do you _think_ is wrong with it?”

Han peered down at her, looking genuinely baffled. “You tell me, Princess, ‘cause I have no idea. Obviously, you liked it a lot when— _Hey!_ Cut that out!” He grabbed her by the wrist, grinning from ear to ear.

“Just think about what Chewie would say!” Leia demanded in a mortified tone.

“Chewie?” He gave her a blank look. “What does Chewie have to do with it?”

“Oh, you _know_ what I’m talking about,” Leia huffed, pulling her wrist out of his loose grasp and dropping her head back down onto his shoulder. “He would never shut up teasing us about it.”

“Nah,” Han drawled lazily, hugging her tighter against his side. “He might give _me_ a hard time, but he won’t say anything to you.” He paused for a moment and then amended, “Probably.”

“Well, I don’t care. If you put a mirror above the bunk, I’m not sleeping in there.”

“Aw, Sweetheart. Don’t be like that. How else are we gonna enjoy that kind of fun again? We gonna pay for hotels every night?”

Leia snorted, muttering under her breath, “Oh, sure. _Every night._ Right.”

Suddenly, she remembered something she’d forgotten to tell him. Disentangling her limbs from his, she flipped the edge of the thin coverlet back and slipped from the bed to pad over to her personal travel case. Thumbing open the lid, she rummaged around in the bottom for a moment and then, pulling something from the depths, turned and reached for her personal datapad on the dressing table nearby. As she powered it on, she moved back to sit down on the edge of the bed, folding one leg beneath her.

“What’s that?” Han asked, shifting up onto one arm and leaning in close. Craning his neck, he peered over her shoulder.

“Hang on,” Leia muttered, tucking her hair behind her ears and leaning over the datapad. Swiftly, she entered a sequence that brought up the application she wanted, then handed Han the small item she’d retrieved from her case. He turned it over in his hand, examining it.

“Access encoder?” he queried. “For what?”

“Hold out your hand, palm up.”

In a move that demonstrated just how much Han had grown to trust her, he dropped the encoder to the mattress and complied without further questioning. He watched as she lifted the datapad and leveled it over his hand, then tapped the screen and waited. “Hold still.” A flash of light across the skin of his palm indicated when the scan was complete. Leia reached for the discarded encoder, pressed and held a tiny button on its face, then keyed in a sequence on her datapad again. After a moment, a faint beep from the encoder announced the end of the process.

“There,” she said with some satisfaction, sitting back and giving Han a faint smile.

“What was that?”

“Access to our apartment on Chandrila.”

Han gawped at her for a moment. “ _Our apartment?_ On where?” The expression on his face was a mixture of pleasure, humor and consternation. “We have an apartment?”

“Well, technically, it’s assigned to me alone,” Leia told him. “But it’s not like you’re going to accept a bunk in the officers’ barracks, are you?” She didn’t wait for him to answer. “And I don’t want to trudge out to the landing field just to go to bed aboard the _Falcon_ every night, only to trek back to Hanna City for work in the morning. And what if you’re away on a mission? I need a place near the new Senate headquarters, so I was allocated one just before we left. I haven’t even had time to go look at it yet. Maybe we could do that when we get back,” she mused. When Han didn’t respond, she looked at him and saw him staring at her. “What?”

“You tryin’ to domesticate me, Princess?” he drawled in a teasing tone. His hazel eyes twinkled, but she could see a hint of serious speculation behind his amusement. “Are we settin’ up house, hangin’ curtains?”

Leia’s brows lowered in a warning frown. “If you don’t want access, I can delete it very easily,” she retorted. “Just say the word.” She lifted the datapad and flicked it out of sleep mode.

“Now, now, Your Highness,” Han took the datapad gently from her hands and set it at the foot of the bed. “I didn’t say that.” Shifting to a sitting position, he moved closer to her and enveloped her in his arms, bringing his chin to rest on her shoulder. “I actually kinda like that idea. You and me, Sweetheart. And the most enormous bed credits can buy.”

Leia turned her face towards him just as he lifted his head from her shoulder, and they shared a tender kiss. Pulling away slightly, she smirked at him. “I knew you’d say that. And guess what else your credits can buy?”

Realization dawned and a broad grin split his face. “Mirrors!”

“Mirror. _Singular._ Something tasteful. We’re setting up our bedroom, not a brothel, for stars’ sake.”

Han’s answering chuckle was muffled against her skin as he leaned down to kiss the curve of her shoulder. “Ah, Sweetheart. You know me so well.”

-:¦:--:¦:--:¦:-

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Final chapter coming soon. Thanks for reading!


	8. Restoration

“It’s a shame,” Neva commented to Leia over the rim of her cup. “Now that I see all the preparations being made for the festival, I’m sorry I can’t stay to enjoy it. _Siribati_ looks like it’s going to be fun, if only for the _informal_ entertainment.”

The two women sat on the wide balcony of Leia and Han’s hotel suite, adjacent to the broad city square, and directly across from the monumental Parliamentary Palace where they’d spent the previous evening. They were peacefully enjoying kaffe in the crisp morning air and observing with growing amusement the buzz of activity in the streets below. Overnight, with remarkable speed, an area of merchants’ stalls had arisen around the borders of the grassy, tree-lined public square. Now Leia and Neva watched in companionable silence as the locals argued and bantered in attempts to outdo each other, each intent on having his or her own unique area prepared with the most colourful, eye-catching display in order to garner the most attention from the anticipated crowds of revelers. Competition was fierce, judging by the tone of several disagreements that had already broken out and the heated words they could hear being exchanged. It was bustling and noisy, and both women found it greatly amusing.

How quickly things could change, Leia mused. It seemed strange that just a few hours ago, she’d looked out over the tranquility of the square with her thoughts in disarray, only now to view the same vista in bright sunshine, with her mind at relative peace, and the unrest far below.

Earlier that morning, Leia had contacted Neva using the information on the chip she’d provided, and was pleased that she’d accepted her invitation to breakfast without hesitation. Neva hadn’t asked if Han would be present; she seemed quite content to discuss conditions of the proposed agreement with Leia alone, although her occasional glances back into the open expanse of the suite indicated she wasn’t quite as ambivalent about her brother’s whereabouts as she attempted to let on. 

Han had opted to take breakfast at the café in the hotel lobby, reiterating to Leia that he didn’t wish to involve himself in any of the Kuat family dealings, regardless of his consideration to renew his personal relationships with his siblings. Leia hadn’t pressed him, acknowledging the significant compromises he’d already made since the outset of this journey; some things he would need to work through on his own, and she knew Han well enough to know that a bit of distance would do him good.

Leia had delivered the news to Neva that, pending approval by the Provisional Senate, the New Republic would be happy to have the support of KDY Industries, provided certain conditions were met. She needed contractual assurances that Kuat Drive Yards would build ships exclusively for the New Republic, as Neva had promised the evening before, in addition to evidence from the corporation’s governing board that all Imperial contracts had been terminated. Issues at a more granular level, including model specifications, delivery logistics and matters of cost would be turned over to a delegate, whom Leia would arrange to visit KDY’s headquarters on Corellia upon her return to Chandrila. The Corellian woman had readily agreed, and they’d both concurred on the next steps required to move the negotiations forward and finalize their newfound partnership.

Now, with the formalities of arbitration behind them, they sat together amicably watching the activity in the street below, enjoying the spring air, and the sights and sounds of Dorthus Tal in motion. Conversation took a lighter turn, and it wasn’t long before their discussions ventured into more personal territory.

Casting a sidelong glance at Neva, Leia couldn’t help but notice that she looked distracted and a bit haggard. Leia could sense the young woman’s preoccupation, though neither had spoken a word about Han. She knew, given his conspicuous absence, that Neva must be fraught with worry, considering the way their encounter had ended the evening before. Hoping to allay the young woman’s fears, Leia took a deep breath and addressed what she knew must be weighing heavily on her companion’s mind.

“Neva,” she ventured gently, “I suppose you’re uneasy because Han’s not here. You’re probably wondering what that means.” Leia waited for Neva’s answering nod. “Obviously, I can’t speak for him, but I just want to say that I think it’s going to be alright. Han’s….well, I’m sure you can appreciate how surprised he was to see you last night and to hear the things you told him.” Again, Neva nodded, casting her eyes down as she seemed to ponder the contents of her cup, and Leia continued. “It was an unexpected shock and he...didn’t react well. We’ve spoken about it, though, and I believe he really does want to try to repair things with you and Sulvan. He’s coming around; he just needs to ease into this, do things his way. You know how he is.”

“Stubborn as a Bantha?” Neva quipped, glancing up with a glimmer of fond amusement shining in her clear green eyes.

Leia laughed lightly. “Let’s just say he displays an aversion to doing anything he’s told.”

“I guess some things never change.”

Leia gave a soft _mmm_ of acknowledgement. “I thought that once,” she said. “I used to think it a lot where Han was concerned. But...trust me, Neva. Han thrives on being unpredictable.”

“I miss him,” Neva admitted in a quiet voice, tucking a strand of her dark hair behind one ear and leaning forward slightly in her chair. “I didn’t realize how much, until last night. Seeing him there was a shock to me, too. But for me it was such a _happy_ one. Over the years I’ve often thought about trying to get in touch with him, but the obstacles seemed so…insurmountable.” Her voice trailed off and she gave a little shrug. “Anyway, I’d give anything for the chance to spend time with him, get to know him again.”

“Better be careful what you wish for, _kar frahino._ ” The deep baritone of Han’s voice startled them both; between the rising noise from the street below and the flow of their conversation, neither had heard him enter the suite and approach the open balcony door, where he stood now with an enigmatic expression on his face. “Leia will tell you, if she hasn’t already,” he continued as he stepped out onto the balcony, “I can be a real pain in the ass.” He gestured toward the empty chair at the small table, directly beside Neva. “Mind if I join you?” he asked, already pulling the chair back without waiting for a response. Leia watched as he settled back, crossed a booted ankle over one knee and rested his clasped hands in his lap.

“I was just about to head out,” Neva said quietly, her eyes roaming her brother’s face. “My shuttle is waiting on me. I didn’t think I’d see you.” She smiled tentatively at Han as he regarded her in silence. “But...I’m glad you’re here. I really wanted to say that I’m sorry that I—”

Han held up a hand to halt her, then dropped it onto the surface of the table between them. “Neva, you’ve got nothing to apologize for. I acted like a jerk last night,” he stated plainly. “All that shoutin’ was about _them_ ,” he gestured to indicate their absent parents. “And _me_. It had nothing to do with you.” 

“It’s okay, Han.”

“No, it isn’t.” Han’s voice was low, but his tone was unequivocal. “You came here to do something good, to use your position to do the right thing, and all I did was find fault with it.” His hazel eyes moved back to Leia’s face and his lips quirked in silent acknowledgement of the wide-eyed surprise she didn’t bother trying to conceal.

 _See?_ Leia wanted to say to Neva. _I told you. Unpredictable._

After a moment, Han dropped his gaze down to stare at the surface of the table, where his fingers began a distracted tapping as he spoke. “And then instead of stickin’ around to work things out, I bailed out and left you picking up the pieces— _again_ —just like I did to you and Sul when I left Corellia in the first place.” He expelled a heavy sigh and met Neva’s eyes. “You said it yourself; I never was much good at doing anything that wasn’t in my own best interests.” 

Neva blanched slightly. “I was angry when I said that,” she replied in a tone of regret. “I didn’t mean it, Han, and I know it’s not even true. We both know that things wouldn’t have been any different had you stayed. Mother and Father weren’t easy to live with back then. And they still aren’t, even if they’ve mellowed a little.”

Leia saw the twitch at the corner of Han’s mouth that told her what he thought of that last assertion, but she was pleased to see him decide to hold his tongue this time.

Neva gazed at Han with affection and gave a little sigh of her own. “You _are_ different from Sul, and from me, too, Han. You were never cut out for following orders blindly, or obeying people in authority for the sake of a quiet life. It’s not in your nature. To do things any other way would be doing a disservice to who you are.” She offered him a fond smile. “You have a strength of conviction that Sul and I may not be able to match, but we certainly do respect.”

Han dipped his head in acknowledgement, then shook it slowly in mild amusement. “ _‘Strength of conviction’_ , huh?” He cast a sidelong glance at Leia. “You listenin’ to this, Sweetheart?”

Leia became conscious of the fact she’d been holding her breath, and expelled it slowly between pursed lips. She’d never heard Han speak so openly or at such length about anything so personal or emotive—at least, not to anyone else—and she was slightly relieved to hear the old teasing tone creeping back into his voice, simply because it made the whole conversation seem slightly less surreal. While Han was certainly more sentimental than he would ever let on in public, he wasn’t normally given to making long speeches or open declarations of emotion, even to Leia herself, even in their most private moments. The momentous events of the past year had left their mark, she supposed, from the shift in their personal relationship, to his assumption of command as an official leader of the Alliance. In between, he’d lost six months of his life to carbonite imprisonment only to be revived on the eve of battle, plunged straight back into war, and then confronted with the deeply startling information about Leia’s relationship to Luke—and their connection to Darth Vader. If he hadn’t changed as a result of some or all of those things, Leia thought, there would be something seriously wrong with him.

“I’m listening,” she answered at length, giving him a wry smile. “And I think your sister is being very kind. I suppose we could start calling your colossal stubbornness and habitual disregard for authority ‘strength of conviction’ if you want,” she remarked dryly.

Han grinned back, not the least bit offended by her teasing exaggeration. Glancing over at Neva, he sat up and leaned towards her, reaching out to take one of her hands in his. “Listen, Sis, I _am_ glad we bumped into each other. And I’m sorry for last night. Next time we meet up, I’ll be nicer.” He gave her a genuine smile. “Promise.”

Leia noticed the happy spark in Neva’s eyes at Han’s casual mention of another meeting. Her mouth curved into a wide, lopsided smile that matched her brother’s, and she leaned forward impulsively to place a kiss on his cheek. He responded by catching her around the neck in a tight one-armed hug, and they clung together for a moment. Leia heard Han murmuring something in Neva’s ear, and looked away from the tender display, casting her eye over the sunlit square and the bustling activity there. After a moment, she heard the sound of Neva clearing her throat and then the scrape of chairs as the siblings stood. Neva gathered her personal items in one hand, swiping surreptitiously at her eyes as she did so. Leia gave her another moment to compose herself, and then stood and moved around Han in order to say her farewells. She accepted the clasp of Neva’s offered hand, but then leaned in to kiss her on the cheek.

“I look forward to seeing you again soon, Neva,” she said sincerely as she stepped back. She glanced at Han, but he had turned away, his attention seemingly drawn by the liveliness in the street below. Leia waited for him to turn back, but then she saw his throat working and noticed how fixed his gaze had become, and understanding dawned. Slipping her arm loosely around Neva’s shoulders, she ushered her gently towards the door, affording Han the extra moment he needed to slip his practiced sabacc face back into place. “Perhaps you could come to visit us on Chandrila once things are more settled there?” she said as they reached the door. 

Neva nodded and smiled back, her eyes bright. “I would like that very much.” With a last glance over her shoulder in Han’s direction, she took her leave.

As the door closed behind Neva, Leia looked back through the balcony door to see Han leaning on the rail, evidently still watching the activity of the merchants and tradesmen working below. She wondered if she should give him a few more minutes to himself. But as that thought crossed her mind, he looked over his shoulder at her, then gave a jerk of his head to summon her back. As she stepped back onto the balcony into the strong sunshine, he lifted an arm in invitation and she slipped underneath it, butting up against his side in warm companionship. Han leaned on one arm and Leia leaned beside him, enjoying the weight of his other arm slung across her lower back, and his hand curving around her waist.

Han was quiet for a long moment, and pensive, his fingers idly toying with the decorative beads that dotted the edge of her belted tunic. She was facing a long day ahead of meetings and consultations, the prospect of which was slightly daunting, and she’d decided to dress more comfortably for the first part of it, at least. Although it was only day two of the conference, Leia was beginning to wonder if she had the stamina to return to a way of life that involved so much... _socializing_. After years of running with the Alliance and spending most of her scant leisure time with Han, Chewie and Luke, she’d almost lost the ability to engage in endless small talk. Not to mention the perpetual _smiling_ ; her cheeks still ached from the effects of the previous day’s forced pleasantries.

“Thanks, Leia,” Han ventured after a while, his low voice barely audible above the sound of the animated arguments still taking place in the square below. “That was...good.”

Leia angled a look up at him, squinting against the morning sun. A fresh breeze gusted past them then, ruffling Han’s dark hair and bringing with it the scents of springtime: new grass, rich soil and the delicate fragrance of flowers in bloom. Leia drew a deep, cleansing breath. “Well, I would say ‘you’re welcome’ but I don’t know why you’re thanking _me_. You’re the one who opted to come back while she was still here so you could talk to her. And I’m glad you did.”

Han eyed her thoughtfully for a moment, withdrawing his arm from around her, shifting more securely onto one elbow and angling his body in her direction. “You had more to do with that than you realize,” he said cryptically.

Leia waited, expecting him to elaborate on the meaning of his puzzling statement, but that seemed to be all he had to say on the matter. She studied his handsome features, and for a fleeting moment envisioned herself abandoning her dreary agenda and leading him back to the comforting expanse of that enormous bed, to spend the rest of the morning... _reflecting_. Smiling inwardly at her own ribald joke, she was suddenly taken aback when Han leaned forward, hooked two fingers into the loose margins of her neckline and pulled the top of her tunic away from her body, peering down into the depths.

Leia batted his hand away and glared. “Han!” she chastised. “What are you _doing?_ ”

His shoulders lifted in a nonchalant shrug. “You got dressed while I was in the shower,” he pointed out. “I was just checking to see if you’re actually wearing that baggy grey stuff again.”

Leia rolled her eyes in exasperation. Just when she was convinced he had turned a corner and veered towards becoming civilized—and even _gentlemanly!_ —he doubled back and acted like a complete oaf. “Yes,” she said, “I _am_ wearing the ‘baggy grey stuff’ again. I told you, it’s all I have. You’re supposed to be going shopping today to rectify that situation, remember?”

“You bet I’m goin’, but it’s turning into a full-blown mission. I only have the one uniform with me, so I need to pick up a suit or two, find someplace to get ‘em tailored in a hurry, get some shoes….”

Incredulous, Leia gaped at him. “You’re buying a _suit?_ And _shoes?_ Not boots? Han, you’re actually starting to worry me a little.”

He looked mildly affronted. “I’m gettin’ a little tired of the cute comments about my ‘fashionable attire’, Your Highness. Besides, we have another dance this evening, right? So, I’m gonna wow _you_ for a change. Just you wait.” He grinned and leaned a little closer. “Tonight, I’m going all-in with the fancy stuff,” he said emphatically. “Underwear and all.”

Leia searched his face for signs that he was teasing. Finding none, she began to feel mildly alarmed. “Do not even _consider_ buying racy underwear for yourself, Han.”

“Why not?” he demanded, sounding somewhat offended. “ _You’re_ getting all dolled up, right? There’s a rule that I can’t look nice, too?” Although his face was completely straight, she thought she could see the hint of a twinkle in his eyes, a sure sign that he was only winding her up to watch her go. “They call _that_ a double standard, Sweetheart.”

She tried to imagine the sort of sexy underwear Han might buy for himself and felt a rush of anticipatory mortification. She decided, just in case, she’d better make herself absolutely clear. “Uh, no, I think it’s best if we leave that sort of ‘dolling up’ to me. _You_ don’t even need underwear to look nice,” she offered. “I prefer you as nature made you, completely bare.” She thought that comment would simultaneously stroke his ego and discourage any unwise purchases.

Han grinned at her in amusement, enjoying his joke and her blatant attempts at manipulation. “Alright, Princess. I won’t buy myself any furry slings or leather thongs, I promise.”

At that, Leia finally broke into helpless laughter, which clearly had been Han’s intent all along. He laughed, too, then leaned down and captured her mouth in a warm kiss. 

“So, you just shortened my list, then. Anything else you need?” he asked seriously, as he straightened to his full height.

The mental image of Han wearing nothing but a furry sling—she couldn’t even fully envision what _that_ would entail—had completely derailed Leia’s thoughts, so she took a minute to draw a breath and compose herself.

“Yes, actually. I need hair pins. I need as many hair pins as you can cram into your pockets, Flyboy. _Somebody_ keeps taking mine out of my hair and throwing them around on the floor so I can’t find them again. I must lose fifteen hairpins every time you come anywhere near me.” 

“Is it _my_ fault your hair is three meters long and irresistible?” he said with a wink. “Alright. Let’s review and make sure I’ve got everything, then. Millions of hairpins, half a month’s wages on silky undies—only for you, not for me, spoilsport—a nightgown or two, and a little leather corset. I’m thinking _red_.” He stepped back and evaluated her figure with an appreciative eye. “Or black. Maybe one of each. Plus, a gigantic mirror and some fancy curtains for our new place. Got it.”

“Don’t you _dare_ pick out curtains by yourself, Laserbrain,” Leia warned. “I mean it.”

“Ah, Princess,” he said with an exaggerated sigh. “Big mistake. You _know_ I’m no good at doing what I’m told.” After dropping a laughing kiss on the top of her head, he headed out the door.

As Leia watched him go, she found herself hoping with all her heart that there was at least one thing in her life that would never, ever change.

-:¦:--:¦:--:¦:-

**The End**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks very much to everyone for reading, and for sending such lovely reviews and encouraging messages. 
> 
> Special thanks to Sue Zahn (suezahn) for graciously giving the nod to us playing in her _Kismet_ universe. 
> 
> Now to write the follow-up fluff, wherein Han Solo goes shopping for lingerie in downtown Dorthus Tal…. Haha!


End file.
